


Nightmares and Daydreams

by mewsifer, SniperMoran



Series: Destiny [2]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bantering, Bickering, Canon-Typical Violence, Cat School Witcher!Jaskier, Cat Witcher and catswort, Cat Witchers can purr, Catswort, Cunnilingus, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Everyone loves Jaskier, F/M, Geralt likes Jaskier, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Jaskier digs his claws into himself when anxious, Jaskier is an excellent marksman, Jaskier is an overemotional wreck, Jaskier likes his daggers, Jaskier likes to throw daggers in general, Jaskier likes to throw daggers when frustrated, Lambert is a jerk (sometimes), Lambert is the baby, Love Confessions, M/M, Masturbation, Mentions of past abuse, Murder, Nicknames, Past Violence, Pining, Purring, Referenced past non-con, Self Harm, Surprise! - Freeform, The Witcher Alternate Universe, Theft, Trans Jaskier | Dandelion, WOOPS!, Witcher!Jaskier, Yearning, also bad feelings, catnip, corpse eater, crystal/glass sex toy, improper use of axii, leshy/leshen, lots of feelings, lots of swearing, masochistic Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, mentions of past trauma, namecalling, nothing too graphic, past trauma, purring Jaskier | Dandelion, sexual content!!, some really soft stuff, we love that word in this fandom huh?, wraiths
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:14:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 92,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24484129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mewsifer/pseuds/mewsifer, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SniperMoran/pseuds/SniperMoran
Summary: Life on the road for a Witcher is a difficult one indeed, but life on the road for a Witcher hailing from the Cat School is somehow impossibly worse.Jaskier survived the attack on Stygga, survived traumas that he can't even openly speak of, but can he survive the chance encounter with the White Wolf, Geralt of Rivia?...can his heart survive it?[aka: a Witcher AU where Jaskier is a Cat Witcher]
Relationships: Aiden/Lambert (The Witcher), Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Past Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg - Relationship, past Jaskier | Dandelion/Gweld (The Witcher)
Series: Destiny [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1735474
Comments: 47
Kudos: 232





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so... this one is actually complete! Ah!  
> But I don't know how many chapters this will be, sooo....
> 
> Listen though, listen—  
> I am so very proud of this one ♡

A life on the road, traveling from one town to the next and constantly moving, only ever stopping to make camp in one forest or another... it was no life to live, really. His feet were always sore, be damned the boots he wore holes in the soles of and didn't have the coin enough to repair them. His body was always far too cold, be damned the light flexible armor and the natural tendency for his body to run a bit cool. He was built for company and yet company loathed him, turned him away at every turn of phrase or offer for filling a contract.  
Of all the Schools of Witchers, being a Feline was a curse of its' own sort. He didn't have a place to go 'home' to in the winter, didn't have brethren he could turn to easily when trouble found him.

Jaskier hated it.  
Hated being a Witcher.

But things were about to take a turn towards the positive, if only he could track down this foul fuck that was playing the town for fools and stealing young girls for a very different purpose than sacrifice.  
He could earn coin enough, surely, to fix up his boots and replace the snapped string on his poor lute. Shine up and sharpen his swords, even, if he were really lucky.

Geralt had heard word that girls were being snatched up, used as sacrifice to an old god. Defiled and then dumped in the woods. 

Having scoped the area, choosing a plan of attack, if the wraiths surrounding the area were anything to go by he'd say there was something far worse going on here. He sniffed out clues, finding tracks, leading him straight to...

"Oh come on...." he huffed, the smell of Witcher was unmistakable. A piss poor one based on his gear. Slim, lithe little thing, light armor, must be a Cat.

Scenting the other Witcher in the area nearby, Jaskier slipped from the beaten path and up into the trees, backtracking a little ways so he could approach the other Witcher from behind. He observed him a careful moment before dropping down onto him from the trees above, silent and stealthy as he could, dagger going to the fellow Witcher's neck.

His pupils were dilated to slits, giving him the true Feline look.

"Cat. I was right." Geralt hummed, not at all threatened by the blade at his neck. Their school had once tried to wipe his out, but he did his best not to hold any grudges. This one seemed as if it had been missing meals. Seemed tired. 

"Always knew your kind to be too pussy to look a man in the face while holding a knife to his throat. That's why they call you that, isn't it?" He hummed, a smirk on his face listening to the Witcher breathing behind him.

Jaskier snarled, pressing the blade tighter to the man's neck a moment, hesitating, before using all the strength he had in his smaller body to flip the other Witcher, pinning him again with blade and slitted glare.

"Yes, haha, Feline, pussy, have yourself a fucking laugh. Go ahead, pup, call me what you like, it's nothing I haven't heard ten thousand times before," he hissed, and despite his anger and the rush he was in, his voice was like silk and his pupils went a little more round as he looked over the Wolf beneath him.

"Try me, you pretty thing, and I won't hesitate to make you far less pretty."

"Woah! Easy there tiger." Geralt smirked, holding his hands out in omission. "Not here to hurt you. Was just working a job and noticed you were here." He examined, looking up to him. 

"Wanted to let you know you had company before finding me in there. See if you were friendly."

"Figures–" he huffed, rolling his eyes, sitting back a little on the Wolf's chest. "Look, if you're after the sick fuck that's stealing virgins, tuck your pretty white tail between your legs and scamper off, pup. This is _my_ take down, and I won't be giving it up to you, not even if you beg with your best attempt at pretty puppy eyes," he grumbled, lifting his dagger from the man's throat, waving it as he spoke instead before pointing it at the Wolf's face.

' _Jakbyś mógł mnie skrzywdzić_ ,' he muttered quietly with another eyeroll.

"There's no way a Cat can take on that many wraiths on their own. You're built for finesse, not power." Geralt reminded, looking toward the area. 

He looked the man over, seeing his clothes, shabby and in desperate need of professional repair. He was hungry, looked as if he was exhausted. More so than the average Witcher anyway. 

"You're the one that accepted the contract?" He asked looking up at him. "I don't care about the coin, I care about the girls." He growled, looking up at the man. "We'll go in together and I'll be on my way."

"You think I _don't_ care about the girls? I didn't take this contract for coin alone, mutt, I took it because it smelled fishy and no one else was around to catch the bait," he slammed his hands on the cocky man's chest, unintentionally feeling how strong the man beneath him was, how tough his armor. His pupils went a little round again before narrowing to thin slits.

"Don't underestimate me, and don't get in my fucking way. I took this contract to finish it alone and I don't need your damn help, so get lost," he hissed, pushing his way off of the larger Witcher, smoothly tucking his dagger back into its sheath strapped to his leg as he sauntered towards where the trail led off.

"You're going to get yourself killed– look... just let me help." Geralt huffed, pushing himself up, moving after him easily, as if he hadn't just been tossed to the ground and threatened.

"I'll take the wraiths, you kill the men. Either one of us would be fucked going in there on our own." He huffed, looking him over. He could even see where the witcher's boots were starting to wear thin. 

"There aren't enough of either of us left just to let one headstrong idiot get killed."

"Least if I get myself killed I can take some of these fucks down with me," he huffed, pausing in his steps as he heard a rustling of leaves that wasn't from either himself or the Witcher stubbornly following him.

"If you're that desperate for blood on your hands, pup, I'll not fight you on joining me but I swear to the sweet Melitele above, if you so much as misstep into my way, I will gut you and leave you here to pick up your own pieces," he whipped around, throwing a glare at him before throwing a knife into the bushes where he smelled a man watching them.

"Do we have an understanding, mutt?"

Geralt heard the knife make contact, smelt blood where he'd noticed someone creeping before. He tilted his head, looking him over slowly, making eye contact. 

"Lead the way, kitty cat." He purred, stepping to the side to let him go in, watching his back. He was on the look out for wraiths, having treated his blade with the proper oil beforehand, he was more than capable of taking on a few of the poor souls. 

As long as the Cat could keep its tail from under his feet long enough, job should go smoothly.

He couldn't help the huff and the roll of his eyes before turning and moving beyond the Wolf to saunter into the heart of it all.

There was a camp set up outside of a run down shack, a fire crackling in the crumbling hearth inside the shack, sounds of coupling coming from within.

Jaskier's eyes narrowed, his pupils going dangerously thin as he stalked to the shack and kicked in the door. With a snarl on his lips, he threw himself head first into this fight, tearing out the throat of the fucker that was considerably balls deep in the poor girl tied to the bed. He carefully maneuvered the bastard's cock free of her before shoving the gargling mess of a man to the floor. He made quick work of slicing through the restraints holding the girl there and jerked his head towards the door.

"When you can manage, dearheart, get the hell out. Meantime-" he grabbed up a thin blanket from nearby and draped it over her. "Stay hidden, and don't watch, sweetling. This won't be pretty," he breathed before slipping from her side to slit throats and cut tendons of awful men, watching them drop and gurgle.

Geralt took care of the wraiths and the odd man that came his way, slicing one clean in half before the silence of it all. He listened, no more breathing except for a few in the hut, himself, and the Cat. 

He put his blade away, making his way back to where the girl had been. "There's more down in the floor boards. Check on the girl? See if she's alright? I have a horse. We can bring them all back into town on her." He stepped in, knowing he was probably going to piss the Cat off by taking command, but it's what needed to be done. 

He found the cellar– more of a hole dug under the house– stored shut with chains. After blasting through them, he opened the hole, jumping down and helped the girls out, handing them off to the other Witcher.

He bristled, jaw clenched when the Wolf took charge, but for the time being he didn't argue, instead moving to help the girls up and out of the hole. When the last one was hauled up, he moved to the bed to kneel beside it, cautiously taking the girl's hand.

"It's all over now, sweetheart. Let's get you and these other young ladies back home, hm?" He breathed softly, going so gentle with the girl, where he was harsh with his fellow Witcher, was still feeling bruised at allowing him to take lead. He knew if the mutt stuck around, he'd have a go at him about it, but for now it was in the girls' best interest to play nice.

With her permission, Jaskier scooped the girl from the bed into his arms, wrapped in the thin blanket.

"Lead the way, Wolf. Guide them," he hissed, hating to say such a thing.

Geralt carried two of the girls who couldn't walk, a third, clinging to his back. He knew these girls would never live a normal life now, maybe best to tell them where a few witches lived, send them there where they could feel safe. They walked out, once they were far enough away, he whistled for his horse, the loyal girl running up to find him. 

"Good girl, Roach. Say hi to everyone." He helped most of the girls up on the horse, one of them clinging tight to him, refusing to let go. He helped the girls cover up with the blanket he kept, grabbing the reigns.

"Don't know where the town is. Lead the way, kitten." He hummed, looking him over in amusement. He was good with a dagger, he'd give him that.

Jaskier threw the other Witcher a glare, one that, should looks cause physical damages, surely would have sent the Wolf to withering away on the ground at his feet.  
He was a good leader, good with those blades of his, and surprisingly seemed to be a good man, but he wasn't about to be fooled with a Wolf in sheep's clothing. Never again.

Glare fading, he adjusted the girls weight in his arms and made towards town, leading the little band of poor lost girls and the mutt and his mare. At the trees edge, he paused, looking to the girl in his arms, whispering something before stepping beyond, moving into town to return to them their families.

Geralt helped them all down, helped them back to their awaiting families. Told them where they could seek help should they need it. He waited for them all to go before looking over to the other Witcher. 

"Guess you're not a pussy after all." He hummed, looking over to him, feeling good about what they'd done. He'd go back in the morning to search the camp. Make sure it wasn't a ring or something. "Gotta ask, what did you say to that girl?"

"None of your damn business, pretty pup," he replied, with little venom to his tone, watching as the girl he'd carried was hugged into her sobbing mother's arms and helped back into their home. She would be alright, they all would be. It would take time, and strength and care... but they would be alright, and it was because of the pair of them.

"You're a mess, by the way. And your footwork is sloppy. ...but you did good out there, so... thanks," he huffed, averting his gaze and tucking a white curl behind his ear.

With that said, he threw one last look to the families now reunited before turning on the spot and moving back towards the woods they'd emerged from.

"You're going back?" Geralt asked, raising an eyebrow curiously. "Can't talk you into letting me buy you a beer? Or do you prefer milk? Could have them put it in a little saucer for you." He offered with a tease, following after him. 

"And don't forget to collect your coin." He followed behind the other Witcher.

"Do you ever shut up?" Jaskier asked, throwing another glare towards the larger Witcher, a brow curved upwards in question before he sighed, rubbing a bloodied hand at his equally bloodied face.

"There's a stream not too deep in. Figured now that the hard work is good and done that I should clean off. You too, if you're smart," he let his eyes trail over the other man and that stupidly heavy, strong armor.

"For the record though, I prefer vodka."

"The stream? Leads to a pretty nice river. Wouldn't mind going for a night dip." Geralt hummed, enjoying that he could get the Cat to raise his hackles. 

"Could meet you there with a bottle. Mix it with the ectoplasm I'm covered in, could be a good night." He offered, watching him stop walking. It was always best, he found anyway, to be friendly with any Witchers you came across. Sometimes they'd be willing to swap jobs, give good advice of which villages to stay out of. New potions were always good to learn too.

He paused, considering.  
It had been a very long time since he had been able to share in any sort of relatively friendly company. And, despite the annoyance and the constant barrage of name-calling, the Wolf was, for all intents and purposes, friendly company.

"True to my nature, I don't really enjoy swimming," he replied coolly, still paused there at the edge of the woods. "But I might be persuaded to watch you foolishly swim about in water so cold it'll shrivel you up," he replied, throwing him a smirk and a wink before moving gracefully through the trees to the stream so he could wash off the blood from his skin, and then his daggers.

"Meet you there in a bit." Geralt hummed, turning back to the village, buying a couple bottles of vodka for them. He was even able to bag a deer on the way back into the woods, hungry from their work. 

He made it to the river just a little after the other man on horse back. "This is nice enough." He hummed, looking around the river. "Care to build a fire? Or gonna eat it raw?"

Despite himself, Jaskier's stomach growled to give away his desperate hunger and his pupils went wide. He shifted between his feet in something that might be nerves or excitement as he looked to the offerings the other Witcher brought with him.

"Ah... well, even if I build a fire – to help with keeping warm and to keep you from freezing your cock off after you've been shriveled up in cold water... hm, lost where I was going with that one," he paused, stomach gurgling and complaining again. "Oh! Oh, yes, even if I do build a fire, perhaps we could still... not cook it?"

He didn't _need_ to feel self-conscious about that decision, or the need to eat the meat raw, not around a fellow Witcher, but by damn he felt that tug of shame all the same.

"You didn't have to do all of this, for the record. Bring drink and food."

"Knock yourself out. Could always go bag another if you don't save me any." Geralt offered, seeing the hungry look in his eyes. "A hunt might even help me warm my cock after the swim." He said, face scrunching up. 

"That came out wrong. Going to wash my armor now." He set his things to the side, knowing the other Witcher wouldn't get far if he were to try and run with them. And Roach would just buck him right off.

"I'd rather not hear any further of your beastly ways, pup. If that's how you treat your hunts, I'm not entirely sure that it wise I eat your catch – raw or otherwise," he teased, watching as the other Witcher moved to remove his armor.

"How you move in all that shit is beyond me, but at least you're not stupid enough to swim in it. I wouldn't help you free of the water, I would let it claim you," he huffed, sitting at the edge of the water with his legs crossed.

He wouldn't eat without the Wolf, but he also wasn't planning to swim, so he would wait. He could wait, he was certain he was plenty capable of that.

His stomach grumbled its contrary protest.

"Some of us are trained to be strong, to be able to carry more than our sorry asses back home." Geralt teased, no heat to his words. He never saw a point in blaming others for actions that weren't their own.

He stripped down, giving his armor a dip in the water before jumping in. A shout and a shiver before he was moving through the water, warming himself.

"You sure you don't want to join me? Water really isn't all that bad."

"Oh yes, I completely believe that hock of shit after hearing your pathetic shouts and whimpers upon jumping in," Jaskier replied dryly, a brow curved upwards as he regarded the Wolf before him.

By no means was he planning to disrobe in any small amount or fashion in front of this foolish being.

"Enjoy your shriveling balls, Wolf. I'll at least show you mercy and start up a fire for when you've come to your senses and gotten out," he huffed, fluidly pushing himself from cross-legged sitting to standing, moving about to gather some twigs and leaves, a few larger sticks to throw together a suitable fire.  
Pleased with it, he sat between it and the river, closing his eyes a moment to relax, to process the events of the day.

Geralt enjoyed his swim a little longer, shaking off before moving to the horse, pulling his pants and a clean shirt on. 

"Enjoy the view?" He teased, sitting down by the fire. "Or did you pop off for a little cat nap?" He smirked, rolling his sleeves up to start on the deer.

"Hmm, I was enjoying the first bit of quiet I've gleaned since taking your sorry ass to the dirt," he breathed, peeking open one of his eyes to observe the Wolf, now near him and dressed in clean clothes – a loose fitting shirt and pants that were illegally tight.

"...how did you even get into those pants while your skin was still wet?"

"Skill." Geralt hummed, and tilted his head a bit. "Dried off with my other clothes before rinsing them in the river." He smiled, making work of the deer. 

"Don't know if you have this tradition, I know Cats aren't exactly superstitious, but it's always good luck to give a new friend the heart and liver." He hummed, digging those out for him. "Would you like the brain too?"

"Keep it, you need all the brains you can manage," Jaskier retorted, despite the rounded off pupils as he took the offered heart and liver from the deer, his own heart pumping a little faster.

"...thank you, for this," he murmured almost begrudgingly as he looked down at the offerings of... friendship?  
"But we're not friends. Fellow Witchers, different Schools. Two absolute fools just happening to collide on the Path. It won't happen again," he insisted quietly, and he didn't know why he insisted this. Didn't know why he refused the Wolf's friendship, except for fear, or shame, or... or he wasn't sure.

All of the above?

He waited for the Wolf to eat first before tearing into the heart, unable to hold back the pleased little groan as he devoured the rest of the two organs he had been gifted.

"Geralt of Rivia." He finally supplied, handing over one of the bottles of vodka he'd brought with. Wasn't exactly his favorite, but he'd live. He moved the deer between them, letting the Cat have his pick of whatever he wanted.

"Charmed, I'm sure," Jaskier replied, taking the vodka bottle and cracking it open, taking a deep drink from it.

He would slip away while they slept and he would never see this Wolf again, and, if he could help it, would never meet another Wolf on his fucking Path.  
With that in mind, he did not supply his own name, merely took another drink and stared into the fire as if hoping it would consume this moment and make it go away.

"Suit yourself then." Geralt shrugged, helping himself to one of the deer's lungs before getting himself up and working back into his armor. 

"I'll be on my way." He started getting Roach set up, ready to go. He was going to head back to that camp, search for any clues. Hopefully it was a solitary operation. 

"Was nice meeting you, little kitty. Safe travels." He nodded to him, heading off. He hoped he'd be alright. Hoped he'd come into some luck. Knew coming from Cat school wasn't easy. People trusted them the least.

His heart clenched as he sat there by the fire, not having expected that the Wolf would be the one to leave, and that he would leave with such... kind words.  
He jumped to his feet, the Wolf not having gotten far as he shouted, "Jaskier!"

He swallowed heavily, squeezing his eyes closed as he waited, not sure what he was waiting for but—

"...it was good to meet you, too, pretty pup."

Even if we never meet again.  
Even if this is it.

Geralt smiled, heading off. Once his business with the camps was done, finding nothing to link it to any others, he moved on. 

Working other jobs and visiting other cities before picking up a contract for a decent amount of coin. He was meditating, waiting for night to fall, when a familiar scent found its way to him. 

"I'd appreciate you looking at me before throwing a knife at me, pussy cat." He called, a smirk on his calm face.

A good couple months went by, and his luck stayed about the same. Jobs were hard to come by. Shelter, food and drink even harder to obtain, especially when he didn't return to retrieve the coin from the job involving all those girls...  
He was still in those same boots that made his feet ache something awful, still was missing a string from his lute and his blades were only as sharp as he could manage to get them with his whetstone.

Naturally, when he heard of a rather lucrative job that paid a hefty sum, he had jumped without question, not even caring what it was he was after because he could solve whatever the problem was, one way or another.

He was moving through the trees to set up camp when he caught the scent, and heard that voice call to him with that teasing fucking name. A shiver went through his spine, his dagger at the ready when he let out a loud, exasperated snarl.

"Oh fucking– absolutely not. No. No this isn't fucking happening again!" He clenched his fists and threw the dagger, letting it whizz past Geralt's head to sink into the trunk of a tree opposite the other Witcher.

"What are you doing here, mutt!?" He hissed, having thought he would be going the rest of his miserable life without seeing that smug fucking smirk on that man's face again.

"Thought your type were the intelligent ones?" Geralt hummed, opening his eyes. He frowned to see him in worse condition than he'd left him. 

His boots were of barely any use. He was suddenly feeling lucky to have been Wolf school. Or at least scary enough looking to demand his money. 

"What are you doing here? Trying to take my contract?" He tilted his head, watching him throw his little fit.

"Your—?! Oh– Oh ho ho! You are _funny_! When did you get so funny, Geralt? That a new trick? Because let me fucking tell you that it does not suit you, funny. Really," he clenched his jaw and his fists at his sides, seething.

He had worked too hard to get a hold of this one. Had gone too long without a decent meal and even longer without decent fucking sleep.

"We played this game once and I will not play this game with you once more, _Wolf_ , so come on then– if this is your contract, you best pull it from my very claws," he hissed, pulling yet another dagger free, readying it in his hand.

"This kitty is all claws. Calm down." Geralt looked up to him, seeing him ready to fight him for the contract. 

"We'll split it. 50/50. You help me in there, pull your weight, and we'll split it." He offered, giving him a look of little importance. He looked exhausted, absolutely terrible. He wasn't even sure he should let him go in with him.

It was a generous offer. 50/50 was unheard of, for him, but here was this sweet pup offering it to him so easily with that awful and stupid look of pity in his eyes.

"Don't look at me like that," he hissed, sheathing his dagger and striding across to pull his other free from the tree with ease. "But fine. I'll _help_ , and we'll split it. And then we part ways and we never play this stupid game again," he huffed, leaning against the trunk of the tree, sniffing the air.

"Can't tempt you to having dinner with me too then? Got everything to make a decent soup." Geralt offered, his attention pulling away. 

"50/50 and your company for the night?" He hummed, standing, moving through to his potions, getting them at the ready should he need them. 

Blades prepped and ready, he stood, turning toward where the beasts would be. The dark would give him the advantage, especially with Jaskier at his side. Everyone knew the Cats could see better in the dark.

It had been a while since he had had anything more substantial than a fucking squirrel or some stolen bread.

His jaw clenched as he watched Geralt move about, preparing for whatever it was they were after – honestly, Jaskier stopped asking too many questions and just took jobs, knowing he could handle whatever it was or die trying.

"Fine, fine. Don't know why you want my company so bad, pup, but fine. 50/50 and my company for the night. Just know if you're planning any funny business, I've got the advantage," he breathed, pushing away from the tree to move to Geralt's side.

Geralt laughed, watching him move, light on his feet despite his shoes barely holding together. "Thought I was a dog. All funny business, right?" He hummed, nodding all the same. 

"Promise my hands will stay where you can see them. Just nice to be around a nonhuman now and then. Even if he is a Cat." He started moving toward his location. A burial site. 

"Need anything for your blades? Not quite sure what we'll encounter in here."

"I've got what I need, pup, but thanks," he hummed, pulling his silver short sword from his back, glancing towards Geralt before smiling, winking, and going in.

A good fun fight later, Jaskier was sprawled on the ground panting and laughing, muddy and a little bloodied up.

"Still want to spend time with me?"

Geralt made his way next to the other Witcher, panting lightly himself, pushing his hair out of his face as he offered a hand down. 

"Yes. Think we both deserve a drink." He smiled down at him, waiting to help him up.

Reluctantly, Jaskier took the offered hand and pulled himself up, only then really feeling how strong Geralt was.

"You're persistent, aren't you, Geralt?" He sighed, shifting his curls out of his face. "Why? What have I done to deserve a lost pup chasing my tail?"

"Never turn down a friendly face, sour puss." Geralt smiled, looking around and finding something to behead. Proof of a contract complete. 

"Not too often you see other Witchers on the Path. Always better to make friends with them when you can. Especially Cats. Never know when you've pissed off the right nobleman."

"Plan on hiring me to take out a noble for you sometime, pretty pup?" Jaskier asked with a quirk of a brow, a bit of a gleam in his eyes as he favored his right leg over the other as he moved from the burial site with Geralt.

"There's not a lot of us left. Felines, sure, but also Witchers in general. We're a dying breed but, Felines... there's even fewer of us left than any other school, I think. Even Vipers..." Jaskier sighed, running a hand through his hair. "So... I suppose I'm glad of your company. For now. Insufferable, persistent Wolf."

Geralt caught the limp, deciding not to say anything just yet. "No. Hoping you wouldn't take a contract on me." 

He hummed in thought, walking in step as he lead the way back to town on the road. "Thought you were the only school still taking recruits." He turned to him, curious.

"Recruits? More like, we're the only school taking the rejects of every other school, but we have nowhere to be. No keep to hole up in when winter comes," he sighed, shaking his head. "There's a caravan, that I know of, but I've never joined it, never tracked it down. I was never really close to any of my own anyway," he muttered, wincing as he stumbled a little, unused to being unable to be graceful.

"You're hurt. What happened?" Geralt asked, grabbing his arm, stabilizing him better. He looked him over, not quite sure what was wear and tear on his clothes and what was possibly battle wounds.

"Nothing, m'fine," he huffed, a clear lie that made him bite his tongue and roll his eyes. No point lying to a fellow Witcher.

"...got bit. But it's fine. I've got the things I need to treat it," he murmured, not a lie. He was good at gathering supplies and making the potions he'd learned worked for his kind. Didn't need coin to scavenge for herbs.

"Do you have a camp set up anywhere? Should take care of that quick." Geralt looked him over. "My horse is in the village down there. I could take you back to your camp and be back with the coin."

"Just passed the trees over there, by the stream. I've got a camp set up, nothing special," he grumbled quietly, moving in that direction. "Are you set up somewhere or... you actually staying in the village?"

He'd tried, himself, but he got shooed out, personally.

"Took the contract. Asked around. Left my horse. Was thinking about staying but the whole place smells like pig anyway." Geralt shrugged, not wanting Jaskier to think he'd changed his plans. 

He led him to the camp he'd mentioned, following his tracks. He helped him sit, looking around at the camp. Was a pretty nice spot. 

"I'll be back. You owe me dinner company, so don't go anywhere."

"Not like I can get away so easily just now anyway. And you've a horse – you could catch up to me no matter how I run," he muttered, sitting himself down by his bag and then slipping out of his breeches so he could get one of his potions on the bite that was already leaving his veins to go dark around where the bite was.

He leaned back against the tree, closing his eyes as he waited for the potion to start working.

Geralt watched, wanting to stay and help. "You going to be alright? Should clean that." He looked his leg over, glad he'd been there to help. 

"That going to be enough? I've got more if you need it." He looked through his bag. "A little alcohol. Pour it on the bite. I'll be back with more."

"I can take care of myself, pup, go on. Go gather the things you need and come back when you're done. I'll be back on my feet by the time you return," Jaskier hummed, letting his breathing even, his heart relax.

The potion was already working, he could feel it burning through the toxins the bite deposited into his bloodstream.

Geralt hesitated before turning and heading back to the village. He collected their coin, using some of his to get them some drink before grabbing his horse and heading back. 

"How is it? Finished licking your wounds?" He called, coming up to the small camp, making himself at home. He handed over the bottle of vodka he'd brought. "Should help with the pain. I'll count the coin and split it in a bit."

"Perfectly fine, thanks, and I don't– I'm not in pain anymore," he grumbled, but he took the bottle anyway, getting it open with his sharp teeth so he could take a drink.

"So, what's wrong with you pup, hm? Chasing my tail like you do... taken a shine to me, pity me, or just feel like chasin Feline tail?"

Geralt smirked, starting on their dinners. "It is a particularly nice tail." He teased, setting everything together to make them a soup with a chunk of beef he'd managed off a trader earlier in the day. 

"Wolves are pack animals. Not enough of us to hunt together any more. Take what company I can get." He shrugged, feeling no need to lie to another Witcher, especially one who looked like he could use some friends.

"Cats aren't especially known for playing well with others," Jaskier breathed, pushing himself to his feet to pull his breeches on, not bothering to tie them closed. "But... Felines do tend to enjoy attention, tend to flourish under it. Some felines, anyway. I am not one that preens under pretty words and craves all that. I was, once. At one point I would have absolutely melted and purred for you, my dear pretty puppy," he sighed, shaking his head as he took another drink from the vodka bottle, moving to sit by the fire with Geralt.

"....but for the record your tail is pretty damn nice as well, for a mutt."

Geralt watched him drink could see that something dark in his eyes. "So you _were_ looking." He smirked, deciding to keep the chat light for now. They were still essentially strangers.

"Not quite sure I'd be following you around if you'd dropped into my lap and purred. I like a Cat with a bit of scratch." He teased, cutting vegetables for the pot. 

It wasn't like either of them really had anywhere to go. They had time to chat.

"Ah, so if I'd been a complete and utter horny flirty thing, you would have fucked off, but because I threatened multiple times to fucking kill you, you decided I was a good candidate for someone you'd like to chase around?" Jaskier laughed, shaking his head, finding he was looking now, too.

"You're just waiting for payback because I took you down," he hummed, taking another drink as he glanced to the fire, the light dancing in his widened pupils.

Geralt laughed, holding his hand out for a drink. He wouldn't say it wouldn't be satisfying to drop that Cat flat on his back, but it had something more along the lines of the first thought. 

"Just waiting until you've got your guard down. See how you like being kneeled on with a knife to your throat." He hummed, watching the light reflect in his eyes. 

He hadn't noticed before but they were a beautiful blue. Such an odd color, not the usual golden. Though Cat school did have problems with their mutations. Could be that. 

He was definitely staring.

"A shame that you'll be waiting a long time, pretty pup – I keep my guard up pretty much constantly, unless I've been previously wounded or am sleeping and, is it really a satisfying win if you don't take me by complete and utter surprise to press a blade to my throat?" He asked, a cheeky little grin curling his lips as he took another drink before handing over the bottle.

He could smell the other man's interest. It was faint, and it was more curious than intent, but it was there. He wondered if the Wolf even knew that was a feeling he was having. Sometimes he felt bad for all the other Witchers, their emotions more muted, more under control.  
Only sometimes though.

"I'd like to see you try your best, Wolf."

"Bet you would." He laughed, taking a deep swig before scrunching his face and handing it back. 

He looked around, content just to sit in companionable silence for a while until something caught his eye. "You play?" He asked, pointing to the instrument in its case off to the side.

"Mm, when I've all my strings intact, yes," Jaskier set the bottle to the side, having taken another drink as Geralt asked about his precious lute.  
"Learn a great many skills to help for covers or fitting in. Being good enough to be called upon to play at noble courts certainly helps gain entry to places one might typically have trouble getting into," he added with a shrug, but it was obvious his love for playing went deeper than just convenience.

"Ah! So you are spies!" Geralt hummed, looking him over. "Do you always land on your feet too?" He teased, looking over to the lute again, seeing that light in Jaskier's eyes while he talked about it. 

"Hope you try and steal another contract out from under me. Would love to hear you play."

"Stand under a tree sometime and find out how I land– oh, wait, that's how we met," Jaskier raised a brow at him, a little smirk to his lips. "You're a real bastard, but if you're a lucky bastard, maybe someday you'll get to hear the works of the great bard, Jaskier," he chuckled, shaking his head as he reached for the bottle to take another drink, realizing it was empty now.

"Didn't much know Cats were good for singing. Only yowling." Geralt watched him get angry with amusement. 

Must be true about their emotions being heightened instead of repressed. That must be tough in this line of work.

He got up, grabbing eating ware and jug of wine off Roach. "We can split this one." He hummed, taking sip before handing it over to Jaskier, serving up a bowl of the soup for him.

Jaskier snarled, snatching the wine jug from Geralt, taking a drink from it before setting it to the side in favor of taking up the bowl of soup.

"I could sing for you without music, it just wouldn't be near as fun or near as nice," he muttered. "But if you insist on being a complete and utter ass, I won't sing for you at all, ever."

"Sorry, just like teasing. Never really get to see other Witchers riled as much. Just my brothers but we've been together so long we know how to get under each others skin." Geralt apologized, holding a bowl for Jaskier. He'd given him a generous helping, knowing he probably didn't eat all that often. 

He knew how important it was to have a kind offer when contracts were thin.

He regarded Geralt carefully, subtly sniffing the air before taking the bowl in his hands.

"Other Witchers have some semblance of emotional control, whether because they can just control their emotions through meditation or discipline, or because their emotions are muted because of mutation," Jaskier sighed, drinking straight from the bowl of soup.

"Whereas you perhaps can tamper down emotions, feelings... all of mine are overwhelming. They hit like a tidal wave and sometimes I drown in them."

"Must be miserable." Geralt commented, simple and honest. "All the heart break we see, the suffering. Can't imagine what that would be like with proper feelings let alone ones that are amped up." He sighed, drinking his own soup.

"And you do this all on your own? That's rough."

"Easier than having someone around. Least if anything happens to me, I don't have a guilt weighing me down that I've left them behind or left them broken," he hissed, taking another drink from his soup, feeling it warm him from the inside out. It didn't taste half bad either, which was a plus.

"But, yeah... it isn't pleasant going it alone, either. But that's just life, that's the Path I walk."

"That's..." Geralt didn't know what to say that wouldn't sound rude. He kept it to himself then.

Just ate in his peace. "Where are you from then? Remember any of that? I don't really."

"Lettenhove, if you must know," he sighed, setting his now empty bowl to the side. "But do me a favor and don't go there, and especially don't go asking about me there. Perhaps it's more, do yourself a favor," he sighed, glancing back to the fire, dying down now.

"What about you? You said 'Geralt of Rivia', that really where you're from, then? Rivia?"

"Don't remember if I'm honest. They told me I had to be born somewhere, so I picked." He answered with a shrug. "Was sold off as a boy or something. Most of us were left by our parents. Unwanted." He looked down, taking up a stick and poking at the fire.

"Given into another life, a place to better ourselves and become needed," Jaskier laughed bitterly. "The Continent needs Witchers, but the mass majority of them hate us, fear us. I can smell it whenever I travel and it makes me sick, makes me angry. Can't stand to take care of their own problems, but also can't stand to treat the beings they hire as equal. It's a hock of shit. Humanity is what's ruined this shit hole, and we're being paid to help."

"At least we're being paid." Geralt reasoned, listening to the bitterness in Jaskier's voice. He'd been hurt before. 

"It is. The rest of them have been here far longer, lived in peace. Dwarves, elves, monsters. It wasn't until the humans started talking over that things got bad. They don't trust anyone who isn't human, but we're worse. We were human once, stripped of that just to take care of them." He agreed, taking a deep breath. "But it's not like they have anyone else. And they're not all bad."

"Haven't met a single good human, personally, but I suppose it isn't an impossibility that somewhere out there there's at least one of them that's good. But that would be putting hope in something that I can't see or obtain and I'm not really about that," he leaned back, closing his eyes as he scented the air, sneezing and shaking his head.

"Gonna rain. Can Wolves climb trees?"

Geralt laughed, pupils going wide at the sneeze. He didn't want to tell him in fear of having his throat slit, but it was pretty cute. 

"I have a tent we can set up. It's not the best, but it'll keep us dry." He offered, almost sure he'd scare the Cat off if he suggested an inn.

"You can sleep in your tent and I'll sleep in the trees," Jaskier replied, his eyes narrowing as the scent of Geralt's interest spiked a moment before fading beneath the overwhelming smell of incoming rain.

"Rather not be stuck in close quarters with you. That is, of course, no offense to you."

"You take the tent then." Geralt shrugged, quickly finishing his meal and packing up. "Or we can set it up like an overhang. Cover us both while keeping our distance." He offered, grabbing the canvas and rope for his tent.

"I'm not taking your tent, and I'm not sleeping close to you. I'll be just fine in the tree above you. Keep an eye, ear and nose out for anything that might come at us," he muttered, picking up what he could without encroaching on Geralt's things. When he had his own stuff safely sheltered from the rains, he started to scale his way up the tree.

"Well, why don't we just head back into the town? We can sit in the tavern until the the rain blows over." Geralt offered, not really wanting to watch the other man sit in the rain. 

"Come on. You haven't even gotten your coin from me yet. I'll just meditate. Won't even sleep."

"They'll kick you out if they see you with me," Jaskier huffed, making it up to the first set of branches and lounging across them, his limbs draped down as he got comfortable.

"Look, you decided for whatever reason that you wanted to share time with me. This is how we do it, or you can move on. Either way, I'm sleeping in this damn tree and heading out in the morning when the rains pass."

Geralt huffed, rolling his eyes. "I think they'd get over it if you were with me. But alright." He shrugged, if this was how it was to be done. 

"Must trust me enough to split our coin on my own, but you won't even sit next to me. Afraid of a little wet dog?"

"Have you ever smelled a wet dog? It's one of the worst scents imaginable, truly," Jaskier teased back, sticking out his tongue as he looked down at Geralt, just as the rain started to come down.  
It was slow and gentle at first, which was fine and good, but a storm was coming.

"You split it however you want, any which way it'll be more coin than I've earned any time recently."

Geralt frowned, looking up to where Jaskier's voice was coming from. "I was able to negotiate a little more than what the contract asked for." He told him, splitting the coin up. He ended up splitting it 40/60. Hoping the Cat would be able to get new shoes. Maybe fix up his lute. 

"Must be rough. I know how people can try to weasel their way out of payment."

"Didn't bring proof – well you didn't ask for proof – well if you didn't bring proof I ain't payin," Jaskier rolled his eyes. "Oh, you took care of that but made a mess of it. Ain't paying for that," he waved a hand, rolling onto his back so he could stare up into the rain, draping a hand over his face.

"Yeah, I've heard it all, and hardly ever see even a good portion of the coin offered. ...so, thanks for this, mutt. I guess I owe you one."

And boy didn't he just hate saying that.

"We're fair." Geralt shrugged, looking up with a gleam in his eye. "You just owe me a song the next time I see you." He hummed happily, looking back to their coin. 

"Here, catch." He held out the bag, tossing it up to Jaskier.

Jaskier swooped down, holding onto the branch as he caught the coin purse and pulled himself back around and up onto the branch.

"Thank you, then, Geralt," he murmured, resting again on the branch. "I'll make it a good one."

Geralt hummed, situating himself so he could meditate. He could understand a Cat not wanting to be near a Wolf. He was a little worried about it himself, especially having seen him in a fight. 

Fast, agile, direct. He could best him in a fight if he weren't careful. 

But it was raining too hard really to keep talking, not like he couldn't hear him, but all the same.


	2. Chapter 2

It didn't take long for Jaskier to relax his heart rate enough that he drifted to sleep up there on the tree branch, the tree itself only doing so much to keep him dry. If it rained any harder, he would be soaked to the bone by morning, but sleep found him anyway.

He woke a while later, hearing noises not far off from where they were camped, and in his haste, he nearly fell from the tree.  
"Geralt!" He hissed, searching in the direction the sound came from. "Geralt, that you?"

"Not me." Geralt answered, already up and at the ready, listening to their surroundings. He had been perfectly ready to defend Jaskier and let the Cat sleep on.

"Sounds like foot steps." He growled, low enough that the other Witcher would be able to hear him. "Should try and talk our way out of it... think it's those people from the village."

"I don't talk my way out of things, I bleed my way out of them," he snarled softly, his pupils dilating as he searched the edges of their camp, spotting figures waiting in the bushes.

Fools.  
Didn't they know what they were up against?  
Probably pissed off that they had to actually pay up to the Witchers.

"Easy. It might turn out to be your way, but I'd rather it didn't." Geralt held back, waiting for Jaskier to come down to his side. 

"Can I help you gentlemen?" He asked, counting how many there were, scanning them, picking out the ones who'd be the easiest to attack first.

Jaskier climbed down stealthily and landed beside Geralt, his pupils narrowed as he looked around them, his fingers a little twitchy at his sides so that he could grab for his daggers if he needed to protect Geralt, protect them both.

"No hard feelings, Witcher, but we didn't know that you were here with him, and, well... his sort ain't welcome here," the one that appeared to be the leader said, throwing a glare towards the Cat on edge.

"This man is my friend. He'd treat you no different than I would. He's a Witcher, just like me." Geralt warned, standing a little taller. "You treat me well, I should expect you to extend the same to him. He'll kill your monsters and buy your wares no different than I would." He said, trying to reason with these people. 

They'd clearly come to try and kill Jaskier.

The Feline's tongue flicked across his lips as his pupils went to but thin slits, his narrowed eyes looked between each man before them, waiting and watching for any sign of movement to attack. He would be ready, and he wasn't going to go down without taking at least three of them with him.

"'cept he ain't like you. Not a Wolf, not a regular Witcher. If you're friends with that one, then we can't be doing business with you either," the leader said, shaking his head. "The Lethal Feline of Lettenhove, Cat-Eyed Scourge of Skellige, Obliterater of Oxenfurt—" the man stared at Jaskier, all eyes on the Cat and the hunched way he stood, at the ready, baring sharp teeth at them.

"That's all him."

"And I was once the Butcher of Blaviken." Geralt reminded him, standing his ground. "Yet I was also the one that helped you with your cows last year. And the barn fire before that. I've helped you with ghouls and drowners. He helped me with the corpse eaters in the cemetery." He reminded them all. 

"If you cut this tie with me today, I will be sure to spread word that this is not a safe town for Witchers and you won't see a single one of us again."

"One moniker, given to you in bad taste," the man replied, shaking his head. "Would never do to hurt you, Witcher– _Geralt_ – but this one..."

Jaskier flexed his fingers, his eyes flashing to one of the younger men that had edged a bit closer.

He smelled their fear, their anger, could feel it burning across his skin and it was like acid under his tongue.

"Do you know anything of him? There is word he slayed one of your own."

At the man's words, Jaskier drew his daggers and was at the man's throat in a flash, pupils so narrow they were barely there in that sea of crystal blue. His heart beat was so slow in comparison to the bunny quick beat of the man's heart under the tip of his blade.

"Give me a reason," Jaskier hissed.

"You see!? You see, Geralt?! How can we treat him as we do you when this—"

"Hold your tongue before I hold it for you."

Geralt ran over, pulling Jaskier off the other man, holding him tight to his side. "Just stories. If you've work, you can give it to him. I promise I'll still come around and we'll be on our way." He warned, holding tight to the wriggling man in his arms. 

"But if I so much as hear whispers of him being hurt, that's it. No more Witchers." He warned, setting Jaskier back down. "Now go back home. No one needs to get hurt here today."

Fighting against Geralt's hold on him was pointless and futile, and yet he attempted to fight against it anyway, clawing at the man's arm to try to get free and tear out the village leader's throat for even _TRYING_ to utter mention of—

"Fine, fine. If he does good work and does no harm, the same promise can be made in return and coin will be earned him," the leader relented, making a gesture for the men to retreat, to fall back home as Geralt suggested.

When they were all gone, no scent and no sound left behind, Jaskier did actually make a sound similar to a yowl.  
"Let me _GO_ you pesky mutt! Unhand me! Release me!"

Geralt set him down gently, looking him over. "You alright?" He asked, checking on him to make sure he hadn't been hurt. But also checking on his emotional state.

His eyes flashed angrily at the larger Witcher, his jaw clenching as he tucked his daggers away somewhat passive aggressively.

"Fucking fantastic, thanks for asking," he snarled. "My favorite fucking way to wake up, you know. To an emotional and physical ambush by people who think they know their shit," he added, storming back towards the tree he'd slept in, that had his bag and lute beneath it.

"Hey!" Geralt barked, upset that he'd raised his voice unnecessarily. "Sorry... look, I tried to help you. It would be a good idea to get out of here for now. You'll be able to take work here. One village, get a good rapport, you'll find work elsewhere." He said as he started packing his own things up.

He had plenty of questions, but now really wasn't the time.

Jaskier flinched at the loud and authoritative sound of Geralt's voice, freezing for a moment before he slung his bag and his lute case over his shoulders, across his back with his twin shortswords.

"I... _appreciate_ your help, but I won't be coming back if I can help it."

He threw a look towards Geralt, as if trying to memorize his stupid face or something before he turned and started walking off, before breaking into a sprint and disappearing into the trees and the distance.

Geralt stood there, feeling like an ass for raising his voice. He watched Jaskier run off. He took a deep, calming breath before doing much the same, leaving town. Moving on. 

He only sometimes hoped to see those crystal blue eyes looking back at him when he heard a rustling in the woods. Though it never was him.

————————————————

It was months on the road alone, as he liked to be. If he looked to rustling leaves hopefully and expectantly, thinking he would see familiar white hair and golden eyes and a big stupid smile, that was neither here nor there.  
He liked being alone, traveling alone. It was better this way.  
He'd used the coin from the job with Geralt to get himself a replacement lute string and to have his boots temporarily fixed up.

...too bad all that was made fruitless effort when he was lured into a false sense of calm and captured, imprisoned during his visit to Velen.

He was being escorted to his final hanging place when he caught that glimpse of white hair, of golden eyes, and why now, of all times and in all places was he finally here?  
Why was their Path entangled in such a way as all this? Why wasn't he allowed to just die when he was damn well ready and alone?

Geralt growled, seeing white curls and those blue eyes that haunted him. A group of men were trying to string him up. They'd stripped him of his gear. Took his shoes. 

It was a struggle, obviously, but Jaskier looked like skin and bone. Why wasn't he eating properly? 

"Leave him be or I'll cut you down where you stand!" He called, hopping off his horse, brandishing his sword.

"Fuck off, Witcher, this is a matter of justice and the law," the man at the helm of the group retorted, looking to the wolf and the sword pointed towards them.

Jaskier couldn't help his stupid little smile as he glanced to that foolish mutt. Hadn't he been the one to admonish Jaskier for acting so irrationally? And now here he was, threatening the law of this area with his sword to release the hostile Cat.

"Stand down, or join him."

"I won't ask again. Let him go." Geralt demanded, looking over to Jaskier. "What crimes has he committed anyway?"

"How about murder? Theft? And surely, if he can so easily commit these crimes, there may be others he has gotten away with up until now," the man replied, ordering the rest of the men to keep up the efforts to tie the Cat up and leave him to hang.

Jaskier looked to Geralt, heaving a sigh. "Don't know why you still try, pup."

_Just let me go._

"Let him go and leave with your lives, or I'll cut him down myself." Geralt gave one final warning, inching closer carefully, flipping his sword for show. Just a little intimidation trick.

"You'll regret this, Witcher," the man growled, his voice trembling and Jaskier could smell his fear, the fear of those that released him, dropping him unceremoniously to the ground at their feet before leaving him there.

Letting himself lay there a moment, Jaskier sighed, shaking his head before rolling himself onto his back.

"Been a while pup. And how have you been?"

Geralt hummed, flashing a smile to Jaksier. "Not that you don't look pretty tied up, but let's get you out of here." He cut him free with his dagger, helping him up to his feet. "You got your gear? Looked like that guy was wearing your shoes." He huffed, pulling him up to his feet.

"Hid my swords and my potion bag but they stole my fucking lute. My armor and my shoes, too," he huffed, finding himself leaning against Geralt a moment when he was finally lifted to his own feet.

"You flirt with all the criminals you rescue from death row, or am I just a special case, puppy?" He asked, brow raised as he pulled himself away from Geralt to stand on his own.

"Get on Roach and go to your camp. I'll be back with your lute and armor. Where were you last?" He asked, angry people could do this.

"You didn't do anything they accused you of, did you?"

"Yes, I did," he replied coolly, wondering if finally his dear foolish mutt would get the picture. "Why do you think I have the names I have? The reputation I have? Hm? You didn't think to ask or wonder about any of it the last time you were confronted with who I am and what I've done."

Geralt rolled his eyes, a little annoyed by the answer. "I meant this time. Don't be so dramatic." He huffed, moving him over to Roach. 

"I just need to know how fucked I am if I go in and get your shit, or if you just need to count your loss for now."

"This time– Geralt! There is a constant bounty out on my head, are you really that unaware? That naive? Every town I enter, I enter with caution and with the forethought that I might be recognized and imprisoned for my crimes. You don't know me, Wolf. So why do you insist of putting yourself on the line for me, time and again? I'm nothing to you. Not a brother, not a lover, nothing. A Cat and a Wolf do not belong together, don't you get that?" He felt tears burn in his eyes, making his anger double and point back on himself.

"It isn't dramatics, you fool. It's facts. I've taken countless lives, and yes, on occasion, and perhaps even on this occasion, I've stolen from those more fortunate than I."

"I don't care about the theft. We've all stolen from nobles and those with a little more." Geralt shook his head, still standing up for him. 

"I thought I made it clear that you are my friend. And I thought you were above petty grudges of decades ago. Cats, Wolves it doesn't matter. There's not enough of us not to have each others backs. These humans string up one Witcher, they'll think they can take us all." He explained, biting back evenly, watching tears fill Jaskier's eyes. 

"I don't give a shit if you don't care about me! Let me care about you!" He looked at him with hope in his eyes. He hated what Witchers had become, hating each other just because of what school they'd come from. What mutations the others had. They were becoming no better than the humans.

His tears slipped hot and burning down his cheeks as he looked at Geralt, his breathing slow but hitched as he shook his head.

"You're an idiot, mutt," he breathed, wiping at his own face stubbornly. "I'm not above petty grudges, and I'm not above murder. I told you, you don't know anything about me so maybe you should stop assuming you know me because you want to. Because you want to care about me, want to save me, but– newsflash, pup, you can't save em all!"

He clenched his jaw, wrapping his arms around himself, digging his claws into his sides.

"A Cat and a Wolf don't belong together. Cats are worthless, broken mistakes and a Wolf should never lower themselves to–"

He didn't even realize he was repeating those words out loud, instead of just hearing them haunt him.

"Stop..." Geralt stepped forward, afraid to get too close, not wanting to set him off. "Just stop. I don't know who fed you that, but it's not true." He worried, stepping closer still. 

"You're my friend because you've saved my ass in battle. I've shared a meal with you. I don't know you because you don't make it easy to." He looked him over, knowing a Wolf had to tell him those disgusting things. 

Had he thought like that once? Had he believed himself better than someone just because of his class? 

Yes. Morally at least. But he couldn't be like that now. Couldn't afford to, and with everything that happened between the two schools, he could understand why Jaskier didn't want him around. 

"I'll get your things, then I'll take you to the next couple towns over. We can split up and I can turn away if I see you again. If that's what you really want."

His heart beat loudly in his ears, a rush of it that seemed to temporarily block out everything else as he continued to cry shamefully.

"I don't... I don't know what I want. You make it so fucking... difficult to know what I want," he breathed, feeling a wave of emotion cresting over him, getting ready to drown him. "I want you to leave me alone and let me just fucking take my penance for the crimes I've committed but I... I don't want to never see you again," he blinked his eyes up at Geralt, his pupils rounded and the way his eyes shimmered with tears like that, with his pupils so wide, it made him look so young and so damn lost.

"These sorts of reckless decisions were easy before I fell into your life and our Paths become entwined. I didn't have anyone to worry after me, or care if I was gone, and now I... I find myself considering your feelings, considering how something I do or don't do might affect you, positively or negatively and I hate it! Who... who gave you the right to step into that place and become important? Who gave you the right to step in and override everything he–...everything I know to be true?"

Geralt felt himself smile softly. "I think you were the one who came into my life. You're the one who dropped from a tree to put a knife to my throat." He said softer, reaching to wipe Jaskier's tears. 

"Take Roach and go back to your camp. Decide what you want from me and when I find you, you can tell me then." He offered, handing the reigns over to Jaskier. "We can talk, or I can be on my way."

"So fucking trusting, pup..." he murmured softly, still feeling the ghost of Geralt's fingers wiping away his tears. He took Roach's reigns and led her off to where he had set up his camp. His swords and his potion bag were still there, waiting for him to come back.  
He sat himself down on a log, absently petting the Wolf's horse as he thought, and waited.

Geralt came back a while later, a little banged up and a few coins short but with Jaskier's things. He handed them over, happy to see that Roach hadn't bit the other Witcher. 

"Good girl." He praised her, running a hand up her neck before turning to Jaskier. 

"We should leave. Where are we heading?" He asked, not asking what he'd decided just yet.

Jaskier looked up at Geralt and jumped from the log, a wild and angry look in his eyes. "Who the fuck did that to you?" He growled, stepping closer to Geralt look over his face, over his hands and arms.

"Gods you're so... you're so just... ugh! Anywhere not here, I don't give a damn, so let's just go."

Geralt nodded, climbing up on Roach. "Get your stuff. Riding in front or behind?" He asked, tilting his head playfully. "Behind, right? Can't turn your back on me?" He forced a smile. 

"I'm fine. Thanks for worrying about me." he hummed, waiting for the Cat to join him.

The Cat grumbled and grabbed up his things, hopping rather gracefully and easily up onto the red mare, wrapping an arm around Geralt's middle to keep himself steady.

"You're not fine, but we can argue and discuss about that when we're far off from this place and I'm putting ointment on your stupid cuts," he sighed, wanting to press his head against Geralt's back, but resisting.  
"You're a downright fool, pup... but I appreciate what you're doing for me. Despite it being unnecessary, futile and idiotic."

"Sounds like you've met me before, kitten." Geralt grinned, starting forward, soon enough at a run, only slowing when they were far enough away. He'd taken the road, cutting through the woods until they were just about properly lost. 

He kept forward, not stopping just yet, just slower. He wanted to put a good amount of distance between them and that village. 

"You don't have to tell me just yet. You don't owe me anything, but I really do hope this isn't the last I see of you." He looked down at the small hand on his chest. How could a Witcher's hands look so delicate?

"From the amount of times I've tried to stay hidden from you and the amount of times the Path has revealed me to you anyway in some way shape or form, if I even still wanted this to be the last, it would not be," Jaskier sighed, having given in during their running and had his head rested against Geralt's back, listening to his heart.

"Ask me what you want to know, and I'll decide whether I tell you or not," he added quietly, gently digging his claws into Geralt's chest.

"Are you going to be alright?" Geralt asked first. It was really the only important question. He enjoyed the feeling of Jaskier's head on his back, nails digging into his chest. He wanted to keep feeling that.

"Am I going to be-" Jaskier huffed a laugh and rolled his eyes. "I'll be fine. This isn't my first near death experience, and in our line of work I can damn well assure you that it won't be my last," he sighed, letting his eyelids slip closed, listening to Geralt's slow heartbeat.

"That's all that matters to me. Everything else can wait." Geralt hummed, slowing down again. 

"Should give the old girl some rest. Ready to set up camp?" He wasn't ready to have Jaskier's head off his back, wanted to keep the weight of him there, arm around him, but Roach needed the rest.

"Mmm, yeah okay," he murmured, pushing himself off Geralt's back, releasing his arm from around the man to hop down from the horse, rolling when he touched ground and hopping to his feet out of the roll, even at this tired state he was in.

Slightly more sluggishly than he usually moved, Jaskier began automathically gathering some firewood.

Geralt let Jaskier set up, going out to get them something to eat. He managed a sizable deer, almost sure Jaskier could probably eat the whole thing, he got a hare for himself, bringing his hunt back to camp. 

"Not going to hide away in the trees on me again, are you?" He could see how tired Jaskier was. He looked worn down, in desperate need of rest.

"Don't think I could trust myself to climb the tree and not absolutely fall back down on top of you," Jaskier chuckled softly, having got the fire going while Geralt had been out.

"Got enough there for the both of us, do you? Whole deer _and_ a rabbit?" He asked with the tip of a brow as he held his lute in his hands, strumming absently. Happy that it hadn't gotten absolutely destroyed in the struggle to take him down and arrest him back at the tavern.

"You don't seem the sort to save my ass and then stab me in the back. But, I've been wrong before," he murmured bitterly as he continued to strum absently.

"You looked hungry. Figure you can eat a whole deer on your own." Geralt hummed, setting to work on roasting his rabbit. "Want yours cooked?" 

He wasn't going to press just yet. Wait until he's eaten, full belly, little of the wine he has left over, just comfortable. 

"I'm not going to stab you in the back. Got smacked in the face with a bludgeon for you, not going to let that go to waste."

Jaskier made a soft 'hmm' sound as he strummed his lute again a few times, the notes sounding a little sad before he turned to Geralt.

"No, get more out of it if it's not cooked," he sighed, setting his lute back into its case and taking one of his daggers in hand to cut open the meal brought for him. "Heart and liver are yours this time," he hummed, smiling as he cut the organs out for Geralt, wanting to trust him, wanting to let himself have a friend again.

Geralt wanted to argue, but he understood the importance of it. He took them from him, closing his eyes as he ate the heart, still hot and full of blood. 

Maybe this could be a friendship after all. 

He licked the blood from his lips, letting it soak into his hands, watching Jaskier eat. He finally got to his rabbit, sharing the leftover wine he had. Only once all their food was gone did he speak. 

"Feeling any better?"

The smaller Witcher leaned back, a satisfied smile on his reddened lips as he nodded.

"A bit, yes," he murmured absently, his eyes closed a moment as he took the last drink of the wine. Setting it aside, he looked at Geralt, a brow raised slightly. "You're a messy eater, did you know?"

"Am I?" Geralt smiled, looking the small Witcher over. He'd eaten so cleanly, so delicately, like a cat picking apart a mouse. He wiped his face with the back of his hand, knowing his mouth was probably stained with blood. 

Not Jaskier, only his pretty lips and just a little at the corner of his mouth. Made him wish the other was a messy eater. All that deep red would look so beautiful with the bright blue of his eyes. 

"Is that a complaint? Are you going to tell me to work on my manners?"

"Heavens no. It was just an observation is all. You've just got... blood smeared all over. I mean, how did you even get blood in your eyebrow?" Jaskier laughed, and it was actually a pleasant sound. He was happy, content, and good gods it had been a long time since he felt that way, since his laugh and his words weren't tainted by fear or anxiety in some way.

The Cat look to the Wolf curiously, tilting his head just a bit, but he was quiet for a few beats, just watching him, looking over every detail of him.

"The last we were together, and the village leader told you there was word that I'd killed one of your kind... he wasn't wrong, you know. It wasn't just rumor, wasn't just a story."

Geralt felt his own bubbling laugh at the sound of Jaskier's, a soft warm sound he wanted to hear so much more of.

He straightened his back at the words now. "I... many of my brothers made stupid decisions. We all thought we were better than your kind, we had morals and a code. You Cats seemed to do what you wanted as long as it made you coin." He looked down, a little ashamed of having thought that once. 

"They slaughtered your kind. Ambushed you like cowards instead of facing you head on." He shook his head. "I don't hold it against you. You don't have to tell me if you're not ready, but I don't hold any of it against you."

"It wasn't during the attack of my School that I killed one of yours, Geralt. It was after. After the dust had settled by a year, I found and slaughtered one of yours, and any who witnessed the attack," he admitted seriously, his jaw clenched as he looked to the fire, afraid to see the look in Geralt's eyes, the betrayal, the anger, the hatred... whatever would be there, he was afraid to see it take over that soft look he had held moments ago.

Geralt was quiet a minute, thinking about it. "You singled him out. It wasn't a random attack." He blinked, looking up at Jaskier. 

He looked so small, broken. Whatever haunted him was scratching at the surface.

"What did he do to hurt you?"

Jaskier stilled, even his breathing for a moment, as his eyes widened, still staring into the fire past Geralt. When he moved his gaze towards the other Witcher, Jaskier's blue eyes shimmered with tears.

"He told me he loved me, and then betrayed me. I traveled with him for a few years, filling contracts together, falling for him... and he betrayed me."

It wasn't all the details, it wasn't even the whole story, but it was more than Jaskier had admitted out loud since it all happened, and his heart ached with the pain of his words and the memory of the past. He felt tears slip down his cheeks and he pulled his knees to his chest, holding himself together with one arm, the other moving into his own hair to try to soothe the anger and the anguish in his mind.

Geralt got up, moving to sit next to Jaskier, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder.

He hadn't know any of his brothers to take on a traveling companion that wasn't one of their own. Whoever it was kept their Cat, their lover, a secret. Which in itself was upsetting enough. He always did his best not to keep secrets from his brothers. 

Wasn't sure how a Wolf could love someone and not brag about it. 

"What happened?"

"I thought he died in the attack on my school, the attack that I barely made it out of myself..." he pulled away from Geralt's touch, keeping curled in on himself as tears streamed down his cheeks.

"I went back to traveling alone, mourning him, missing him... to find out he was the one that gave up my school, our location. He was the reason my brothers were slaughtered, he was the reason I nearly lost my life," he breathed, voice trembling with the barely held back rage and sadness.

"And he was still alive. Still traveling."

"What did you do then?" Geralt asked quietly, moving his hand back to his own lap. 

He hated seeing the other man like this, wanted to do something, but didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

"I tracked him down. I still... foolishly, stupidly, I still loved him. My heart still ached for him and despite everything he had done, I still loved him and still wanted him," he sighed, closing his eyes, forcing more tears down his cheeks.

"So I found him _fucking_ his way across the Continent," Jaskier laughed, a bitter and angry sound as he shook his head. "I cornered him and... and seeing him again, I was so relieved and so overwhelmed and he told me he was so happy that I was alive. That he thought I'd died and that he'd missed me and I fucking believed him! I– ...I believed him, so we went to bed..."

Geralt felt his stomach squeeze, feeling the pain in his words. He had to look away, not knowing how one of his own could be so fucking heartless. They were emotionally stunted, but they weren't monsters. 

"What happened after that?" He asked, feeling his own eyes filling with tears for the poor little Witcher. Cat or not, no one deserved that.

"...he didn't even remember my name," Jaskier sneered, his own claws digging into his skin, into his scalp a moment before he pushed himself to his feet, sucking in a deep breath feeling the need to—

He pulled a dagger and threw it with a shout that echoed, the sound ripping with anguish, and wounds that were still not completely healed. The dagger flew and embedded into a tree a ways off.

"He betrayed me, he lied to me, and he took everything from me, so I destroyed him. I tore him apart and in my blind rage I killed every- and anyone in the vicinity that had been witness to what I'd done."

Geralt watched all the rage and hurt shake Jaskier. The horrible sound that rang from him when he screamed his pain. He just listened, not knowing what more to do. 

Disgust that anyone could to this to another living being. Even worse that it was someone he knew. 

"He deserved it." He said simply, leaving out the part about the witnesses. It would do no good to nag about morals now. "He deserved whatever you did to him. No one should have to feel the pain you're in."

He took a deep breath, not sure he wanted an answer to his next question. "May I ask who it was?"

"Gweld," he breathed the name, the sound a tremble to his lips and an ache in his heart as it twisted, because despite it all, his foolish feelings still had not been doused. If anything, now he not only still loved the awful fool, but also felt guilty for killing him. For tearing him apart until there was nothing left.  
Nothing but the stupid medallion he carried in his bag.

He moved over to it, digging through its contents to the bottom to pull out the Wolf medallion, handing it to Geralt.

"Gweld, of Kaer Morhen, of the Wolf School."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and so we learn of Jaskier's checkered past and the trauma he carries in his heart!
> 
> find out tomorrow how Geralt handles this new information


	3. Chapter 3

Geralt felt his hands shaking, feeling as if he was going to be sick, eyes going wide with tears threatening to fall. 

"Gweld?" He swallowed heavily, trying to quell that burning feeling in his throat. The bile and shock rising in his chest.

Jaskier could see it in Geralt's eyes, the recognition behind those tears that made his heart twist even further. "You knew him, then," he murmured, nodding as he placed the medallion in Geralt's shaking hands.

He wouldn't want the Cat to stay, now. He'd surely successfully pushed Geralt away this time, so he moved from the Wolf's side to gather his things, preparing to leave.

Geralt held the medallion, staring at it a moment before looking up to Jaskier. 

"What are you doing?" He asked, watching him gather his things. "Please don't go." He breathed, it was such a weak sounding thing. He really didn't want Jaskier to leave.

He paused in his confusion, turning to look at Geralt, brow furrowing. "I... I don't understand...why would you want me to stay after– ...after I've told you all of that?" He asked, a clench to the muscles in his body as tears welled in his eyes anew.  
"What's wrong with you, pup? Don't you get it? Don't you understand that I'm a bad person? A monster, even. No better than the things we are paid to take care of. Why would you... want me to stay here with you?"

"You're not a bad person Jaskier..." Geralt breathed a laughed, looking back down to the medallion in his hands. "You had terrible things happen to you and you acted as you saw fit to do..." he wiped at his eyes, looking back up. 

"Gweld was my best friend when we were kids. All through training and after the mutations." He explained, smiling at some of his fonder memories with the man. "We had a falling out. He started spewing shit about how we were the superior School and that they shouldn't allow any other mutations. That the Cats were the most disgusting scum of the earth." He curled his lips up in a snarl at the thought. 

"I simply thought you should be discredited. Lose the ability to make more... he wanted to wipe you out. Said he'd find a way." He looked down in disgust, reaching out to hand the medallion back. 

"I didn't know he lived after the attack. He didn't come home. By the time he left, trying to recruit Wolves to go on his attack of your school..." He paused, "...by the time he left he was no brother of mine."

"...there _shouldn't_ be allowed to be more Cats made," he murmured quietly, averting his gaze away from Geralt as he took the medallion back, clinging to it. "We're too volatile. Too easily set to destruction where other Schools have trained the rest of you to hold back, to be disciplined and careful, steady. Emotions muted where ours are too much... my transgressions alone should be proof of that," he murmured, slipping to his knees by the fire.

"...anyway, I guess _I_ was his way. Fooled me into dropping my guard with promises of love, and I led him right to my own brothers and sisters. Led him directly to our door," he let out a breath, as though he had been holding all of that back for so long and, well, perhaps he had been. He hadn't let himself mourn properly, hadn't allowed himself that weakness.

Piercing blue eyes glanced back to Geralt, helplessly searching his face for answers.

"I'm not a good person, Geralt, even if you can't see that."

Geralt looked back at him wishing he could change Jaskier's mind. Take his pain and give him those years of his life back. 

"I have met plenty of bad people in my life... apparently my best friend among them..." he hesitated, still not knowing how he could do that. "You're not one of them Jaskier. Maybe you're somewhere in between, but you are not a bad person."

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. "There's no convincing you otherwise is there, pup? Going to keep chasing my tail no matter how much I tell you that I've done wrong," he sighed, moving to him, knocking on the Wolf's head.

"Lights are all on but hardly a person home," he teased lightly, a sad smile on his face. "I should go get my dagger – don't tend to like leaving those lying around. Are you going to follow me, or will you stay here and wait?"

He breathed a laugh, standing to follow Jaskier. He'd been invited to after all. 

"Once I've made my mind up, it's not easy to get me to change it." He warned, following behind him. "And you've only made me want to follow you more. If only to keep you out of trouble." He teased, desperately wishing to comfort the other man. 

He didn't know if he could ever have the man's trust based on what he'd said, but he'd try.

"Mm, I don't know that _'stubborn as a Wolf'_ is a common phrase, but evidently it should be," Jaskier sighed, hearing Geralt trailing behind him as he searched for the tree his dagger had hit.  
It was quite a deal farther than he had imagined, when he finally found it sticking a moth into the trunk. He smirked, pulling his blade free.

"I'm afraid that you've taken on quite a heavy task for yourself, my pretty pup. Keeping me out of trouble? It's a rather full time job, and no one has enough time on their hands for all of that. Sure you wouldn't rather call it quits now while you're ahead? Tuck your fluffy tail between your legs and scamper off?"

"I do enjoy a challenge." Geralt grinned at all the teasing. Anyone else wouldn't be allowed to say these things, but Jaskier had special privileges. 

"Not getting rid of me that easy, kitten. I've taken a liking to you. Loyal as a dog and all that."

A darkness twitched in his eyes, almost like the agitated flick of a cat's tail, readying an attack.  
"Yes. Loyal as a dog," he muttered, sheathing his dagger before turning to head back towards their camp.  
"You're a troublesome thing, aren't you?" He hummed, shaking his head.

What sort of luck he had, attracting all these fucking Wolves to him. A sick joke on Destiny's behalf, surely.

"We should rest now, I think. All these.... emotions and shit have exhausted me."

Geralt nodded, following him back to the camp. "You can rest, I'll still be here, so just sleep." He smiled slightly, not sure if Jaskier would trust him enough to sleep.

He eyed Geralt warily, some part of him terrified to trust this man, this... Wolf.  
But Geralt had done nothing to show that he would hurt him. Hadn't even gotten angry in finding out that Jaskier had killed one of his, and apparently what was once his best friend. That should mean something.

...only it didn't, because Gweld had been good to him, too. Had been kind and soft and had saved him more than a couple times on contracts together.

Saying no more on it, however, Jaskier curled up by the fire and closed his eyes, exhausted, but he didn't let himself drift too heavily, didn't let himself close off his senses and get proper sleep. He twitched at every sound, stilled at every quiet breath.  
He remained on high alert all night.

Geralt sat quietly, meditating instead of sleeping, half expecting Jaskier to get up and leave in the night. 

He listened to Jaskier stir at every sound, every deep breath he took. He did his best to stay quiet, slow his own heart, trying to let the man get some rest. He wasn't sure if this was better or worse. 

"Do you sleep better on your own?" He asked after a while.

He contemplated pretending that he was sleeping, but he was sure that Geralt could hear his quick breaths, his irregularly beating heart at each and every sound.

"Not really, no," he murmured with a sigh, pushing himself to sitting up so he could glance towards the Wolf. "I didn't have the easiest time sleeping before the attack and after... after I just always feel like it's that night all over. That maybe if I had been more on alert I would have—" he sighed, shaking his head. "It's stupid, I know, but I can't turn these things off."

"Its not stupid at all." Geralt opened his eyes, sitting to be a little more comfortable. "Something like that... you might never recover from." He shook his head, taking a deep breath. 

"I was lucky not to be a part of that. The few of us that refused to fight... we're some of the only Wolves left. But I still have a home. I still have my brothers. I still have a reason to feel safe." He tilted his head, leaning forward a bit. "All of that was taken from you in one, horrible night."

"I'm glad you weren't there," he murmured quietly, fiddling with his dagger in his hand, twirling it absently before throwing it into the ground as he got up and moved to his lute case.

"You're... stupid, and annoying and persistent as hell but I'm... I appreciate your kindness that you show me."

Geralt smiled, watching him grab the lute, excited to hear him play. "You're angry, and mean, and incredibly volatile. But I'm glad you stayed."

He hummed, settling himself to lay down, adjusting his bag to rest his head on. "You still owe me a song, kitten."

"I know I do," he sighed quietly, closing his eyes as he strummed a little over the instrument before he started to sing.

The words were somber and sad, and not in Common, but it was a beautifully haunting sound from him and from his instrument. He kept his eyes closed as he swayed carefully with the gentle sad song.

Geralt listened, feeling his pain in the music, a song he'd never heard before. He was quiet for a while after it finished, laying with his eyes closed, hands folded over his middle. 

"Did you write that?" He asked, voice quiet, as if it was inappropriate to speak after hearing such a song.

"I did, yes," he murmured quietly, finally sucking in a breath, opening his eyes as he glanced towards Geralt. "I don't tend to sing things that I haven't written myself," he admitted with a bit of a shrug. "I don't like to take others words into my mouth when I don't know what they felt when they held those words in their own mouths, in their own hearts, you know? Those are their songs, not mine. Their feelings, not mine. I wouldn't want someone to try taking my songs for their own and making their own out of them when they don't know the real feelings behind them," he sighed, setting his lute to the side, back in its case.

Geralt didn't know the words, a language he wasn't familiar with, but he understood them. Understood the pain, the anguish, that Jaskier had felt. It hurt and yet was so beautiful. 

"You're very talented." He whispered, wishing Jaskier would play more for him.

"Thank you, pup," he hummed, smiling kindly at Geralt, wiping absently at the tears in his eyes. "I figured out music helps to vent feelings when I have too many flooding me at once, when I'm too overwhelmed, so I've been singing and writing my own songs for quite a while now," he sighed, running fingers through his own hair, through his curls.

"If you're lucky, I'll play more for you, and if you're even more lucky, even more persistent and annoying than you are, chasing after me, maybe I'll write a song for you, about you."

"Beating me over the head with your lute doesn't count as a song." Geralt squinted to him, cracking a smile. 

He hoped he was lucky. Hoped he was very lucky, blessed even, for that to happen. He wanted to make sure his song was far happier, one that didn't bring pain. 

"Perhaps I should have kept that rabbit's foot instead of eating it." He hummed thoughtfully. "Does that count? Technically, at least for the next few hours, I still have it." He smirked, enjoying the sight of bright blue eyes rolling, that look of amused annoyance. He knew Jaskier would never admit it, but he was beginning to enjoy his company.

"I think it would make some beautiful music, actually. Beating you over the head with my lute. But!" Jaskier chuckled lightly. "But, I won't risk my poor beautiful instrument for that sort of music, sweet pup," he hummed quietly, shaking his head.

Carefully though, he picked his instrument back up, starting to play again. Another sad song before playing something a bit more bawdy in nature.

"My head is rather hard. Would worry for your instrument." Geralt laughed, happy to hear Jaskier's mood lifting through his songs. He had a beautiful voice and was quite talented with a lute. He was also, apparently, quite talented with a cock, if his last song went for anything. 

"Have you ever thought of hanging up your blades? Becoming a traveling poet instead? You've spent years wandering, endured so much, I'm sure you've stories enough to tell." He looked over to him. 

Had he been sitting so close this whole time?

Jaskier laughed again, but this time it held a little of that previous happiness. "Have you ever thought of hanging up _your_ swords? After a lifetime of doing this and seeing what we see?" He chuckled, strumming absently. "No, I would never hang up my swords. I don't think I could... Witchers don't retire and you should damn well know that. Just because I have other talents doesn't make me any different," he sighed, knowing the real reason he wouldn't be able to retire is that he wasn't even allowed in most taverns or towns without trouble.

He looked to Geralt beside him, noticing the larger man had gotten a bit closer to him.

"No. You're right I wouldn't." Geralt shook his head, smiling, eyes going a little dreamy, distant. "Doesn't mean I don't daydream about it though. Little place in the woods. Just living off what I can hunt, near enough to a river to fish and swim. Maybe take on the odd job here and there." He shrugged, looking up to Jaskier, where he was still sitting. 

"Never even thought about it? Thought about what it might be like to just... disappear? Take only what you need? Make vodka in barrels in the basement?" He grinned, searching his face.

He wondered if Jaskier had ever thought of settling with Gweld. He felt a little guilty for asking, hoping he hadn't.

He furrowed his brow, shrugging. "Disappearing? Yeah. I've thought of doing that plenty of times and in plenty of ways, but... that's sort of what I'm doing already. How I'm living already," he sighed, rubbing at his own face.

"But...your little daydream sounds really nice, and like you've thought on it quite a bit. Maybe someday you'll get to experience that. Maybe someday Witchers can retire, when there's no more monsters to protect the humans from, or no more humans to kill the monsters for," he smiled a little, gently elbowing the other Witcher.

Geralt smiled looking over to him, his eyes going sad. "As long as there's humans around, there's always going to be monsters. They might suck all the magic and chaos from this realm, but they're like a plague. Infecting everything, killing what was here far before them." He sighed heavily, moving his hands to rest on his chest, looking up at the sky. 

"I just worry that someday, I'll be too tired of their petty problems. Sometimes I worry I'll stop caring that the monsters are running them out."

"Why do you care anyway? Why do you still? Because I've long since stopped caring for a majority of them," he sighed, slipping from his stump so he could lay beside Geralt, purely for his warmth, now that the fire was dying out.

He laid down and curled up beside him. He felt rather small next to this big Witcher, but, he'd felt that way beside Gweld as well.

"They treat us like monsters, treat _me_ like a monster... so I rarely find myself caring for them. ...but for innocents like those girls we saved together– well, how could I not care about them?"

"I just... I want to see the good in them." Geralt admitted, taking a shaking breath in. He could feel the warmth of Jaskier laying next to him, not daring to look. 

"But they make it so hard. Stringing each other up, killing each other. Needless wars over land no one wants anyway. It's just greed. They've drawing out monsters and disease with their corpses, yet so many of them would rather turn on us and the other non-humans. Make it our faults their shitty little kingdoms are going to shit."

"Well of course. Even though they're the ones that don't belong here, they're the ones that have gathered all the power, have taken everything by force," he sighed, pressing himself against Geralt's side, thankful that the man wasn't making a big deal of it.

"But I can understand it. Wanting to search for the good in them. You search for the good in monsters too, you must, because you found some sort of good in me, for you to still be willing to share space and time with me."

Geralt felt his heart skip at the contact, relaxing again, still not looking, not wanting to break the moment. It really was like having an actual cat warm up to you. Ignore them and maybe they won't see any threat. 

Not that he knew many cats to warm up to him. They seemed to have some secret alliance against Witchers. 

"There is good in you, Jaskier. If there wasn't, you wouldn't have saved those girls. I know you didn't collect the pay on that." He hummed, letting his eyes slip shut. "I went back to check on them. See if any wanted to leave the village."

Jaskier huffed, averting his gaze., staying close to Geralt anyway.  
"If I hadn't saved them, you would have gone in there on your own anyway, like I had planned to do. You would have saved them just fine," he paused, closing his eyes and letting out a sort of defeated breath.

"But you're right. I didn't go back to collect on that. I haven't been back there at all since then. Thought I cause enough trouble. It's like that pretty much everywhere I go. Being with you only nearly dragged you into my mess, too."

"I can handle my own trouble." Geralt hummed, a warm content sound. "They're doing fine by the way. The girl you carried? Her father disowned her after he found out. Took her and another girl to a witch, out in the woods a ways away from the village. They're settled and all three are happy." He explained, knowing Jaskier wanted to know. "What did you say to her that night? You seemed so different with those girls."

"I told her that I understood and that I was sorry," he murmured, not the whole truth, but the rest was for that girl and him to share, not for other ears. "I'm... I'm glad they're okay. That she's okay," he sighed, curling against Geralt's back, pressing close. "It's awful that her father gave her up after that though... wasn't her fault– ...anyway, thank you. For... for checking on them, and telling me," he murmured, feeling tears welling in his eyes like the stupid, overemotional wreck that he was.

Geralt smiled, forcing himself not to roll over. Not to hold the other Witcher who so desperately needed it. 

"Everything is going to be alright, Jaskier. I promise." He whispered, taking a breath just to listen to the other man's heart. It was pounding for a Witcher. Always seemed to be. Must be all that stress of emotion.

"You can't just say something like that so... so casually, Wolf! You have no clue! No idea what the future holds! For me, for you, for those girls– for fucking anyone! Unless, all this fucking time you've had some magic eye into the future and that's how the fuck you've been constantly finding me and oh– oh if that's true Geralt—" Jaskier pushed away from the larger Witcher a bit, trembling. From cold or whatever the emotions were that were cresting over in him.

Geralt sat up, looking at Jaskier in confusion. "Magic eye?" He asked, tilting his head. "It's going to be ok for those girls. Their lives have changed completely, but they're making an effort to be happy. And I think they'll find that where they are." He looked back down. 

"I think I keep finding you because I'm meant to. Even if my time in your life is fleeting, it's important to me that I met you. I hope you feel the same, and I can't promise things will be good. But they'll be alright. We all suffer, but we'll know times of peace."

"Meant to? You think you're _meant_ to keep finding me? Please don't tell me you of all people believe in fucking Fate and Destiny," he grumbled, still curled against Geralt, just now he wasn't as close to him.

He was getting the urge to run, to crawl up into the trees and just fucking disappear, come back for his stuff when the Wolf had grown tired of waiting around and had sulked off, but he was making an effort not to be like that, to not do that.

"It's good that you found somewhere those girls can be happy, and safe, and that they're with a witch who can help them feel safe. I'm glad for that, but you can't just casually promise that things will be alright. All things. Because, they won't be. That's not how my life works."

Geralt huffed, frustrated that he really couldn't figure out what he was trying to say. He laid back down, calming himself and thinking about it. 

"I don't believe in Destiny, I just don't... I don't know how to explain how I feel." He huffed, a little whine at the end of it. That was his short coming. His feelings. Couldn't make sense of this, especially not when there were so many, and Jaskier's seemed to change like the wind. 

"I just... I feel like things are going to be alright. Maybe not for everyone. And... and maybe things won't be for you. And you're right, I can't promise that, but I'll try." He was decently satisfied with that answer, hoping it wouldn't make Jaskier run. He seemed twitchy suddenly.

"I don't need you to help me, okay? I don't... I don't want you to. I don't want you to go out of your way to keep helping me," he sighed, feeling trapped and closed in and everything was seeming to be too much. Instead of running, though, he buried his face against Geralt's side, letting out another cry that surely would have echoed were it not buried in the other Witcher's side.

"I don't want you to get hurt because of me. I don't..."

_I don't want to be hurt again, either._

"I don't want to help you." Geralt sighed, wanting to roll over again. He didn't. 

"I just want to be around you. I like you. You have a mean tongue, you're a good fighter, and I think you could have my back." He smiled at the thought. "Not like you have many options of people to hang out with, kitty." He teased lightly, not really meaning it. Though it was true. 

"I also want to hear those other songs you have. You'll at least give me that, won't you?"

He wanted to scream, wanted to throw things or punch this big foolish idiot but he did none of those things, instead sighing into his side.

"Why did the gods give me you? Big foolish oaf of a thing..." he huffed, a hint of a smile in his words. "I could have your back, or I could stab you in it. Depends on my mood – you're really okay with taking a chance on me? Mean thing that I am, already known to have overpowered and killed one of you big Wolves? Hm?"

He found himself wrapping an arm around Geralt's middle, digging his claws into the man's chest.  
"But, if you're really, stupidly sure you want me around, for some godsforsaken reason... I'll let you. Be around me, I mean. I'll let you find me, sometimes. And I'll sing for you sometimes too. The bawdy things, the sad things, the ones somewhere in between."

"Think I'll take my chances. Told you, I like a challenge." Geralt hummed, relaxing against Jaskier's touch.

"And that sounds good to me. Anything you're willing to share." He smiled, hoping they'd share more moments like this in particular. Just quiet time together. Little moments of peace.

Before he knew it, Jaskier was kneading comfortingly at Geralt's chest and drifting off to sleep. He didn't wake again until he felt water hit his head, rains starting up again, evidently. They never had any luck with—

He let his eyes open and dug his claws into Geralt's chest, his eyes wide when he saw the big creature looming over them. It was a beast like a small bear or a large wildcat and Jaskier knew these creatures.

"Geralt! Geralt get up!" He hissed, fumbling for the daggers at his side, knowing they wouldn't do very much good against a leshen.

Geralt sat up, slow and careful, its attention trained on Jaskier. "Easy..." he kept his voice low, holding his hand out to Jaskier, casting Axii on the beast though it was already quite calm, just sniffing at him. 

"Hello. Don't you look hungry." He spoke to the beast, slowly getting up, carefully moving to where they had eaten the night before, scraps of the deer left over. He held it out to the creature, rather small for one of this type. 

Must be a baby or terribly under nourished. Best to get this thing out of here and go.

Jaskier moved slow, getting to his feet and moving to the place their fire had been, watching Geralt with the creature out of the corner of his eye while he gathered their things, slinging his bag, his lute, and Geralt's bag to his back so they could get the fuck out of here.

"Leshy, right? That's what it is or...?" He chewed his lip, speaking quietly to Geralt as the larger Witcher fed the beast scraps of their meal from the night. "Been a bit since I've seen one. Never particularly woken up to one over me like that before, though," he muttered, his panic absolutely making him jittery, bouncing from one foot to the other as quietly and as non-disruptive as possible.  
"Think we can... get the fuck out of here now please?"

Figures that the one time he gets actual decent sleep it gets fucking ruined.

"Not yet. Stay quiet, move slow, and get on the horse." Geralt warned, still holding out food to the beast. 

How did it sneak up on him like that? Was he sleeping that well? 

Once Jaskier had done as he'd said to, he took the leg that was left, throwing it as far as he could into the woods, making a run for it when the beast did. He whistled, jumping up on the horse behind Jaskier, having her run in the opposite direction. 

His heart was pounding, so glad that had worked. There was no way he was equipped to fight a leshy. Especially after just having woken up. He clung tight to Jaskier, the fear of the possibility of watching him die was still present.

The smaller Witcher was trembling something awful in Geralt's hold around him as they road off in the opposite direction.

"Fuck... fuck fuck that was too close– _fuck!_ " Jaskier breathed finally, after the panicked sounds of his breathing, the quick thumping of his heart in his chest as he dug his claws into his own arms.

Geralt held him a little closer, realizing Jaskier's fear response was probably amplified making this far worse for him. "Shh... its alright, kitten. We're safe now." He hummed, only slowing when they came close to a small village.

His claws drew blood from where he was digging them into his arms, his pupils blown as he licked at his lips nervously.  
"Fuckfuckfuck..." he whimpered, feeling tears start to bite at the corners of his eyes.  
"One time I fucking sleep, actually fucking sleep, and I nearly get us killed," he whined, squeezing his eyes shut as he leaned back to feel Geralt's heartbeat against his back, his breathing.  
They were both alive. They were both fine.  
Safe.

"Fuck, pup... I'm so sorry..."

"Hey, you can't blame just yourself, I was there too. We got out of it. We're fine now, safe." Geralt whispered, reassuring, resting his hand flat on Jaskier's chest. 

"It's alright." He hummed, giving him a tight, reassuring hug. "It's handled and over now."

"But it was me it was after. I know you saw the way it was looking at me," he breathed, shaking still, digging his claws in deeper, drawing more blood.

It seemed some of his silvery scars may very well be from himself.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry, fuck I can't– Geralt I can't– That's not how I wanna go. I don't really wanna go... I don't really wanna die, not now, not yet."

"Shhh... you're not going to die. Not here. Not now. Not if I can help it." Geralt held him tighter, resting his head on Jaskier's shoulder, taking his hands off his arms gently. 

"Its gone, we're so far away from it. We're safe and we lived." He hummed, calm, relaxed, trying to encourage Jaskier to be. If he didn't calm down soon, he'd ask to cast Axii, but he really didn't want to do that to him.

Jaskier struggled against Geralt's hands trying to keep his own claws away from his arms, away from digging into himself.

"If you hadn't been there, if you hadn't woke up when I called your name... If we didn't have anything left from the night... so much, so much hung in the balance and we didn't even know. I could have– we could have died... another fucking death on my conscience, another that I could have prevented if I wasn't so– I mean I never! I never sleep like that so why... why...?"

Geralt had no idea how to handle this, had never dealt with an equal who felt so much. "Would... would you like me to cast Axii on you?" He asked carefully, knowing it would be a little easier to reason with him if he were calm.

With his heart beating so heavily, his breathing erratic. "Yes. Yeah, yes that's fine. Please, yes," he murmured, squeezing his eyes closed as he still struggled to get his hands away from Geralt.

Geralt sighed, doing as he'd been asked. "Easy... you alright?" He asked, still holding him tightly. 

He wished there was more he could have done.

The calm haze that fell over Jaskier's mind was instant and his breathing slowed, his heart beat relaxing more to a normal Witcher rate.

"Yes, now," he murmured, his voice quiet and calm and honest for how he was feeling currently.

Geralt sighed, slumping and resting his head on Jaskier's shoulder. "Thank the gods..." he breathed, feeling his heart beating slower. 

"We're safe now, Jaskier. We're alright." He reminded him, keeping his hand on his chest, just feeling his heart beating.

"I know... I know we are. We're okay. You did so good getting us out of there pup," Jaskier breathed, just relaxing against Geralt, enjoying the calm haze hanging in his mind, soothing all that panic and all those other emotions that were just too much, not helping him to be able to calm down himself.

Geralt felt his heart skip at the praise, smiling. He gave Jaskier a light squeeze, happy he'd been able to save them. "Thank you. I tried my best." He smiled, feeling himself relax at the other man's calm.

"You did so good... now too. Wonderfully good pup," he murmured, seeming to melt and press back against Geralt's body, soothed completely, staying calm, keeping that softness about himself for the moment even as the calming haze started to fade slightly at the edges.

Geralt hummed again, just smiling and holding him for a bit longer. He sighed, not wanting Jaskier to get uncomfortable.

He pulled one hand away, grabbing the reigns and encouraging Roach forward again. He still held him close, probably would until he was told to fuck off.

Jaskier blinked slowly, the haze fading as Axii wore off. Coming back to himself, settled and without that rushing panic through him, he winced, feeling the sting of the cuts in his arms from his claws.

"Geralt...?" He murmured quietly, squirming a little against the larger Witcher's body. "Where– where are we? Where are we going?"

"Honestly, no idea to either of those. There's a road marker up ahead." Geralt answered looking at a sign in the distance. 

"Just kind of ran in the opposite way." He let go of Jaskier at his squirming. "Anywhere you want to go? Anywhere to avoid entirely?"

"Lettenhove. Velen. Skellige. Uhhh... Oxenfurt," he nodded. "Absolutely avoid all of those places at all times and constantly while in my company or searching for my company. I will never be anywhere near those places if! If I can help it," he sighed, rubbing at his arms. "Anywhere else is sort of a game of chance, so anywhere you want to go, I'll go. If it's not some place good for me, I'll just uhm... take my leave."

Squeezing the cuts on his arms, he hissed and leaned back against Geralt. "Thank you. For... your help. Was a good idea, for a mutt."

"I tend to have those from time to time. My skull is thick, but there's a brain in there somewhere." He hummed, enjoying the teasing. It meant things were fine. 

"There's some bandages in the bag on the left there. Help yourself."

"Oh, oh is there? That's good – I mean I suppose you did prove that a little, today, so... so that's good. Good that all the knocking around you do hasn't done too much damage to the poor thing," he added with a smirk as he reached into one of the bags strapped to Roach, pulling bandages free from it and wrapping them around each arm.

"Thank you. Again. And uhm... sorry, about—" he gestured to all of him and sighed. "Yeah, just... all of that."

"Don't." Geralt said simply, giving him a nudge with this head. "That's what friends are for." He hummed, hoping Jaskier would just leave it at that. Would just accept his friendship. 

He wasn't planning on going anywhere any time soon. And it looked like they'd be traveling a bit, since most of the region was pretty bad for the Cat.

"I suppose we did finish that little friendship ritual, didn't we?" He laughed softly, nodding. "Right well, even friends are allowed to thank friends. Common courtesy and all – can't just go around assuming favors will be given because of friendship," he added with a smile, content for now to just relax back against Geralt as they rode, seemingly aimlessly.

Geralt hummed, watching Jaskier as they rode. "That's fair. But you don't have to thank me." He looked out on the rode, seeing a village coming up. 

"I don't know about you but I'd like to try our luck at an inn. Could really use a bath."

Jaskier tensed some, jaw tight as he looked to the village coming into view. "Not sure they'd even let me in, but...if you can manage your charming ways, I think I'd like a stay in an actual bed for once. Maybe try for sleep that won't involve waking up having to envision my own death," he laughed, loud and sharp, but he was smiling, genuinely.

"Bath would do you good – you stink, but bath will only do to make you smell of wet dog. Not sure what's worse..."

He hoped, if Geralt insisted, that he would be able to get afford a room for himself so he could also take a bath, without prying eyes.

"That does sound pretty nice." Geralt laughed, nudging him playfully. "Maybe they'll even let you play in the tavern." He suggested, leading Roach up to the stables. 

"Stay put, stay quiet, and please stay out of trouble." He looked at him, playfully begging. "I will be gone just two minutes."

"I make absolutely no promises," Jaskier replied honestly, but he smiled all the same and gestured for the large Witcher to leave him be as he tended to Roach. She was a good girl, really, and Geralt treated her surprisingly well.

...he really was a good man, even to his horse.

While he waited for Geralt, Jaskier hummed to himself, imaging what it would be like to play in a tavern for the first time. Definitely he would play some more of the bawdy tunes and less of the sad emotional bits. He was humming some of his tunes to Roach while he awaited Geralt's _'gone just two minutes'_ return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will be gone just two minutes!
> 
> Next time: Inn Shenanigans!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some pretty fun sexual content towards the end of this chapter
> 
> woops

Geralt went into the tavern, was able to rent two rooms with the promise of clearing some drowners out of the rivers and entertainment for the night. He wasn't really sure if he wanted to leave Jaskier here on his own or not. 

"Alright! We have our bath, but we have to earn it. Care to go knock out a few drowners with me? Or going to head straight up and into bed?" He asked, holding a key out for Jaskier. 

"There's a key to the bath house but apparently, due to a 'very messy event' they only allow one person at a time. So we'll have to get it from the innkeeper when were ready for it." He explained, checking his gear really quick.

He paused in his humming when Geralt returned, a little on edge at first but smiling all the same. "Drowners huh? You got reeled in to doing some more work?" He chuckled lightly but nodded, leaving his bag with Roach.

"Yeah alright– what's a few drowners before cleaning up and getting some sleep?"

He noticed of course that Geralt had more than one room key. Nice of him, to be considerate and rent a separate room for Jaskier, but he felt the need to obviously pay him back.

Just as expected, it was quick work, especially with Jaskier at his side. Coming back to the inn felt good, knowing he'd have a hot bath soon enough. 

"You can go first. Hate to have the lingering smell of wet mutt to ruin your bath." He smirked, looking at him playfully. "I've never been bothered by a little wet pussy, Cat."

Jaskier flinched, gritting his teeth and pausing on his way to the bath. He told himself to drop it, to let it go, they'd just had a good fight together and Geralt was being kind about letting him bathe first – not that he would take long anyway, nice rinse and done but...  
His pupils narrowed as he turned on his heel to march back to Geralt, whipping a dagger out of nowhere to point to the Wolf's neck.

"You may think it quite funny to poke fun and tease as you please, mutt, maybe even you think it's cute – you may use whatever terms you like towards me, but I beg of you to never utter such a phrase again. 'A little wet pussy'," he shuddered, the blue of his eyes going a bit dark while his pupils remained but a slit. "I hate it. More than you'll ever know, I hate it. And, seeing as we're _friends_ now, I can tell you so. Are we clear?"

Geralt held his hands up, not sure why everything always resulted to a blade to his throat. "Sorry. You could have just said so." He answered calmly. 

He'd thought they were playfully joking, just being as obscene as one of Jaskier's songs but he meant nothing by it. Honestly it was even a little lewd for him. 

"Is it the word that bothers you too? Would you like me to stop saying it in general?" He asked, blade still to his throat, but he wasn't exactly threatened by it.

"Yes, preferably," Jaskier sighed, flipping his blade and sheathing it once more, his pupils going a bit rounder now that he was more calm. "I just– you can tease me any other way you like, with all your stupid names as I do with you, just not that one, okay? Please?"

"Of course, Jaskier. You should have asked sooner." Geralt smiled sadly. "Now go on, go have your bath. Let me know when you're done."

The smaller Witcher nodded, giving Geralt one last look over before turning back and moving to the bath house.  
He stripped and bathed quickly and efficiently. When he was well and cleaned, he gathered his things into a bag and wrapped himself in a towel that he held together up near his neck.  
He scurried inside and let his nose lead him to Geralt's room, where he knocked quickly.

"Your turn, pup."

Geralt frowned, hearing the knock. "That was quick. Was the water cold?" He asked, opening the door. He tilted his head, wondering why Jaskier was holding his towel all the way up to his neck. 

"Thanks, kitten. Going to get some rest? Want me to wake you up when it starts to get lively downstairs? The innkeeper said you can play." He smiled, setting his own things to the side to go down to the bath.

"No, water is nice and warm, so go and get clean and smelly like wet dog," he laughed softly, already moving away from the door, his butt showing a little from how he had the towel draped and angled.

"I'm gonna lay down awhile but... yeah, wake me when things start to pick up. I'll play for a little while and maybe if people don't take one look at me and scurry me off, I can make some coin to pay you back for the room."

Geralt snuck a quick look at Jaskier's back side. Really was a nice tail to follow. 

"Don't worry about the room. You can get me dinner." He smiled, pulling his shirt off and stepping into the hall to close the door behind him. 

"Sweet dreams, kitten. See you later." He hummed, watching him a second longer before going down to the bath.

He could feel Geralt's eyes on him, but he didn't know why and he wasn't going to hang around to ask, either.  
He moved to the room that was his, next door, and hurried in to lock the door behind him.

He let the towel fall from his body before he moved to the bed and curled up in it, closing his eyes.

The bed was softer than any surface he had slept on and it was... it was so nice that he drifted to sleep pretty quickly lying there naked.

Geralt lingered in the bath for as long as he could, washing his hair and just enjoying the hot water. After a little while he got up, going back to his room to get dressed. He rested for a little while before heading downstairs. 

When the sun started to set send it looked like people would start coming in, he went up to Jaskier's room, giving a knock. "Jaskier, might want to wake up if you'd like to play tonight. Should start picking up soon."

Jaskier grumbled at the disruption, stirring a bit on his own as it was. He rubbed at his eyes and slipped from bed.

"Alright, alright... be down in a bit. Gotta get all prettied up to go play for complete strangers that might chase me out," he laughed, grabbing up his bag.

He bound his chest and pulled the rest of his clothes on – his under things, breeches and a red doublet he had in place of his armor for tonight. He mussed his hair, making it look decent in the mirror before adding a little red to his lips and kohl flare to his eyes. He smiled at himself, nodding, before grabbing up his lute from its case and opening the door.

Geralt was downstairs already playing a round of cards when he saw someone coming down the stairs. He had to do a double take, not realizing that could have been Jaskier on his first look. 

His heart started beating faster at the sight of him, taking a breath to calm himself. He was beautiful, red lips matching a red doublet he hadn't seen, far nicer than his armor. His eyes were lined with something dark, making them impossibly bluer. 

He was staring, he knew that. He just couldn't force himself to look away.

As soon as he descended the stairs he could smell the arousal in the room, the interest, and he could hear particularly the Wolf's heartbeat quicken. He couldn't help his slight smirk as he strummed his lute a few times to draw further attention to himself as he moved to the center of the tavern.

He started off with a bawdy song to really get the tavern's drunken occupants going, and then played a few that were more adventurous and rousing, and then a song not in Common that rose and fell and swelled and was beautiful and moving, before finishing off with another one that was a bit more boisterous.  
He danced around as he sang, grinning and winking at any who looked at him and he could smell their arousal burn in his nose, heady and strong. He passed by the Wolf more than a few times enjoying seeing those golden eyes so trained on him, focused. It made his heart sing louder, his voice so clear and just absolutely owning the audience.

He'd lied, when he said he hadn't thought about it, about leaving the chase, the hunt behind and doing this.

Geralt watched with a smile on his face, not able to completely focus on his game anymore until his partner gave up and went on to find someone else to play. 

Jaskier looked so happy, so in his element. Women and men both looked on, the scent of arousal filling the room. There was soon a small collection of coins in a cup for the bard. He'd even had a few women and a man go up to him, asking to get him a drink, to go upstairs later. He didn't understand the jealousy he felt, but he was at least happy for his friend. 

Maybe things could be alright.

When he was finished and a bit tired out again, he grabbed himself a drink, grabbed up the cup that had gathered his coin and took the now empty seat across from the Wolf, smiling bright. His cheeks were flushed from all that movement and all the scents in the air, the compliments mixed with the raunchier comments.

"Sorry about your game, pup. Cat got your tongue, hm?" He purred, taking a drink from the frothy ale.

Geralt grinned, looking down at the table, gathering his cards up. "You had fun, hmm?" 

He loved the sound of Jaskier's voice like this, so over confident, something rough to it but still so melodic. 

"Find yourself some company for the night?" He asked, a warm smile on his face.

"Mmm, well I could have some company, but, I turned them down," he smiled a bit, leaned back in his chair as he downed the whole cup of ale, setting the empty thing on the table between them with a big grin.

"But yes, I had a lot of fun, thank you for this," he hummed, gently kicking Geralt under the table. "Wouldn't have done it if you hadn't convinced me, or convinced them or whatever, you know, so...thanks. Big dumb pup," he said the last bit with such fondness in his voice that it sparkled in his eyes.

Geralt laughed, feeling a warmth in his chest at the light in Jaskier's eyes. 

"You look great, you know. I'm sure everyone in the room has said that in some form... or scent." He laughed, scrunching his nose playfully, letting himself be kicked under the table. "But it's true. You should do this again." He suggested, finishing his own drink. 

"I think you owe me some dinner. Let me get you a drink?"

"Oh yes, and also the sound of their heart beats," he hummed, looking pointedly across at Geralt with a quirk of his brow before he gracefully slipped from his seat to go order them food and drink.

He returned with drink in his hands, food with the young lady behind him.

"Here we are, pup. Dinner as owed. Drinks, too."

Geralt felt caught, his own heart betraying him. It was normal to think your friend looked beautiful. He had many beautiful friends... sorceresses... that he eventually bed. But this is different. 

"Thanks." He hummed, tucking in. "You think you want to do this again? Play for another tavern. We could head to the next town with one." He offered, wanting to still travel with him. Keep him out of trouble.

"If you think I could, then, yes... I'd like to do this again," he smiled, slipping back into his seat as he thanked the pretty young girl for carrying their food over. He slipped her a few coins before turning his whole attention to food, drink, and the Wolf across from him.

"Been a while – did you enjoy the songs? That one at the end was newer, wasn't so sure about it but it seemed to go well since everyone was drunk."

"Newer?" Geralt asked, watching Jaskier eat. He looked different here than he did last night in the woods. The ale giving him a rosy glow to his cheeks, candle light warming his skin, he looked relaxed and honestly happy.

"All your songs are new to me. I think you make a good musician, certainly have the showmanship." He laughed, leaning forward, lowering his voice. "Tell me, is that how you've committed assassinations?"

Jaskier's lips curled devilishly as he looked down at his food and didn't make eye contact with Geralt.

" _Perrr_ haps," he purred playfully, popping a few steamed potatoes into his mouth, humming and closing his eyes as he swayed happily. Hot, cooked food was sometimes just as wonderful as hot raw food, fresh from a hunt.

"But yes, newer. Wrote it more recently," he added, licking his lips from the froth of the ale. "The potatoes are really good, so be sure you eat them, pup, or I'm going to steal them from your plate."

Geralt smiled up at Jaskier, heart beating away at him like this. He wondered if he was like this before everything.

If he could be like this now.

"Trade you for a carrot." He offered, eating some of his, enjoying seeing Jaskier eat so comfortably. "Sneaky thief!" He cried playfully when the Cat took two instead of just the one offered. 

He could get used to this. A travel companion, someone he could share joy with. A Witcher's life was so full of misery and loneliness these days. Even fleeting moments like these were cherished.

The smaller Witcher laughed happily, sticking his tongue out. "Cats are known for being little thieves," he hummed with a cheeky little wink.

He felt good.  
Like, actually, really good.  
His belly was filled with warm food and good ale, his heart was still soaring from playing such good music and listening to everyone enjoy themselves. Feeling and smelling everyone enjoy themselves on his behalf, because of him.

The Wolf seemed happy too, judging by the way his heart was beating quickly and there was a very slight bit of warmth to his cheeks.

This could be his life, he realized. If he asked, he didn't think Geralt would hesitate to take him along and keep him close.

...but this had _been_ his life.  
He had this before and it had gotten all... all fucked up.  
It could go that way again and Jaskier wouldn't be able to take another break like the one he suffered at Gweld's betrayal. Sure, Geralt seemed different, and verbally rejected the actions of his brother, but... Gweld hadn't seemed bad at first either.

He felt his overactive thoughts souring his mood, making his smile pull back and slow his eating though he had plenty left.  
He hated this...

Geralt could see that look in Jaskier's eyes again, that one of panic settling, watching him get anxious. He looked around, now wanting him to feel like he was staring. 

"Why'd you turn those ladies down?" He asked curiously, wondering if maybe Jaskier only exclusively liked men. No shame in that, just a little odd. He was simply trying to make conversation, trying to bring that smile back to his eyes.

Geralt's voice broke through the cloud of panic starting to swirl inside his head, snapping him back to the present temporarily.

"Hmm? Oh, I'm not exactly feeling up to... that sort of company," he murmured with a sigh, shrugging a little. "It's been a while, I'll admit, but after the scare we had and all, I think the only company I need tonight is that comfortable bed," he smiled, not that full and carefree smile from before, but still genuine all the same.

"Perhaps you can find some company for yourself, hm? Or I could persuade some company for you?"

Geralt smiled, shaking his head. "I'm uh... not exactly popular among the ladies." He frowned, looking back to his food, pushing it around before eating. 

He'd only really ever slept with prostitutes and witches. Usually these types of women wanted nothing to do with him. He was big and intimidating. It also just didn't feel right, knowing Jaskier was in the other room. 

"No worries; I've enjoyed myself enough for one night! Warm food, hot bath, and a bed to sleep in. What more could I ask for?"

"For your newly invigorated friend to find you someone to warm your bed with you tonight," Jaskier purred, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, and before Geralt could say another word edgewise, the smaller Witcher had slipped from his seat.

He sauntered his way over to one of the ladies that had propositioned him earlier and started chatting with her, glancing every so often back at the Wolf. The woman seemed... amicable with whatever it was he was suggesting, and followed him back over to where Geralt was sitting.

"Geralt, this lovely lady here is Violetta, and she would _love_ to make your acquaintance and keep you company tonight, if you'd like," he hummed, leaning against the table with a teasing smile on his red lips.

Geralt looked her over, feeling his face go a little hot, cock warming up to the idea of company. She was beautiful, there really was no reason to turn her down, especially not since Jaskier had been kind enough to ask her. 

He looked between her and Jaskier, nodding. "Oh, yeah... would you like to go up now? Or should I buy you a drink?" He asked, shifting awkwardly in his seat. He'd never had a common woman before, how does he thank her if hes not paying her?

Jaskier grinned and got the pair some drinks and sent them upstairs, shooing Geralt as he kept glancing back anxiously.

"You'll be fine, pup. I'll be fine too," he hummed, watching them go before getting another drink for himself to take to his room. He locked the door behind him once he was up there, kicked his worn boots off and moved to rest his lute in the corner.

Geralt was a little shy at first watching her go into his room, sitting on the bed. He stepped to her slowly, afraid to scare her off. Jaskier was smaller, he could see his appeal to a woman. He had soft features, a comfortable smile, wasn't as threatening looking. 

It was a little easier when she called him over, having him sit while climbing into his lap, whispering lewd things in his ear, unlacing her top, letting her dress fall from her shoulders. He cupped her breast with one hand, slowly working the other up her skirt, feeling between her legs. Her soft breath hitched when he slipped a finger against her, rubbing at her before pushing it in. 

From there, with his mouth at her neck, working his fingers in her as she pulled off his shirt, it didn't take long for her quiet gasps to become breathy moans. 

Once her legs stopped shaking, he laid her back on the bed, taking off his pants and working her the rest of the way out of her dress, pushing himself into her. Her cries becoming louder and more desperate as she encouraged him on, legs wrapped around his hips. 

His own grunts and moans matching now, looking down at her, imagining blue eyes lined with kohl, lips colored red, and that dazzling smile that made his heart skip. 

He worked her over like this a few times before finishing himself, a loud cry, listening to her oversensitive whimpers of relief that he was finished.

He didn't mean to listen, really, not at first. He meant to drink his ale and crash, just sleep off the excitement and the anxiety and all the other jumbled feelings that were flooding his brain and making it hard to think.  
But the scent of arousal was so strong, even with a wall between them, and the sounds Violetta made while the Wolf fucked her – first with his fingers, he could hear it, and then finally with his cock – it was just... it was way too much.

He felt the slide of the wetness between his legs and it took everything in him to throw his clothes off and grab the cool, crystalline toy from a secret compartment of his bag.

He listened to how he worked at her, and if the sounds were right, she must have come at least three or four times before Geralt finally—

And _oh_... oh that sound he made was just like music of its own and he wanted to hear it again and again until he couldn't possibly take it anymore and dear gods what was wrong with him? They were _friends_ , and sometimes they were barely that when he went a little crazy and pushed the Wolf away but oh... Oh the sounds. The way they smelled, coupled together – sweet and floral paired with something more earthy, more musky and like leather.  
He bit back a soft whine as he pressed his fingers to himself, toying with that sensitive nub inside of him a little, circling it with his index finger before he slipped the crystalline toy inside of himself, needing no prep with how his arousal made it slick.  
With the hand not toying with himself and moving the toy inside, he slipped two fingers past his lips as the rest made to cover the lewd sounds he was pulling from himself.

He imagined the Wolf holding onto him, whispering sweet and stupid things against his skin, teasing him as was common between them now. He imagined those molten gold eyes, watching him so intensely, so carefully as he pressed into him over and over.

He arched his back from the bed as he let out a cry, barely muffled by the fingers in his mouth.

Geralt heard the sounds through the wall, listening to Jaskier's whimpers as he wrapped his arms around the sweet girl he was with. She was drifting to sleep, over exhausted. 

He wondered what made Jaskier change his mind. He sighed heavily, letting himself close his eyes.

After cleaning himself and his toy up, he slipped from bed to put the beautiful crystal toy away in that secret pocket. He walked on wobbly legs to the small table, downing his ale before moving back to slump into bed. Jaskier slipped beneath the blanket and found that he drifted easily to sleep after all that excitement of the day. He hadn't even realized that he had been so exhausted. He slept without nightmares, and without waking, only coming to in the morning when he heard the shifting of the bed in the next room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well!
> 
> Two bros  
> Two buddy friends  
> just uh... listening to each other _enjoy_ themselves
> 
> as friends do.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Some more sexual content in this one, towards the end
> 
> ♡

Waking the next morning, he stretched from the curled up way he had been sleeping and slipped out of bed, stretching a bit more until all his joints had popped pleasantly. Yawning, he moved to get ready for the day.

He folded the doublet from last night and put it away in his bag, exchanging it for his usual armor when he got dressed. Grabbing up his things and leaving them close to the door for easy get-away, he moved to the hall, smiling and waving at Violetta who was leaving Geralt's room.  
She flushed pink but waved all the same before hurrying away. Chuckling softly, Jaskier moved to the door she had just come from, knocking.

"You awake in there, wolfish thing you?"

Geralt hummed, sitting himself up, still covered in the blanket looking up. 

"Good morning, Jaskier." He hummed happily, looking up at him. "I'm decent, come in."

Jaskier grinned and pushed the door open, slipping inside to lean back against the door, his cheeks going a bit warm when he spotted Geralt still in bed, covered by his blanket.

"So... have a good night, pup?" He asked, rather knowing the answer to that, but, well... he wasn't going to just outright tell Geralt he'd been listening! What would the poor foolish Wolf think of that, of _him_?!

"Changed your mind last night?" Geralt smiled, getting himself sat up, pulling his blanket up with him, patting the side of the bed. 

"I have underclothes on." He laughed, scooting over. "Not like you weren't peeking when I took that swim." He winked, still feeling pretty good from the night before.

Rolling his eyes, Jaskier crossed the room to sit himself beside Geralt, absolutely overwhelmed by the scent of their coupling here last night, but saying nothing of it.

"Changed my mind last night? I'm not sure what you mean, dear. Was there something I was meant to be thinking on last night...?" He closed his eyes, listening to the sounds of the building waking up, the heart beat of the Wolf beside him as he waited for the answer.

"I heard you in there last night, sorry... didn't mean to listen." Geralt smiled sheepishly. "Did you have a good time at least?" He asked hopefully, seeing Jaskier to be in decent spirits. 

"I owe you one." He hummed happily, looking him over. She was a sweet girl, but he'd decided last night that that wasn't what he'd wanted. Not that he could have what he truly wanted.

"You heard m–" Jaskier blinked, his face heating up, his heart skipping rather quickly in his chest. "O-Oh uhm... r-right..." he licked his lips nervously, averting his gaze from the Wolf as he tried to calm the weird feelings flooding his system.

"Yeah, uhm, yeah. I had a good time. You too, then? You seem to be in good spirits this morning and Violetta looked pleased," he chuckled, pushing away from talking of himself. "I saw her stepping out and boy you should have seen her cheeks glow – call you lot _wolves_ for other reasons too then, hm?"

Geralt smirked, feeling his cheeks heat, a laugh breaking. "Don't know what you're talking about." He teased, getting himself up, moving to get dressed. 

"Come on now, you and I both know it's always better to have a... wolfish lover?" He laughed, bumping against Jaskier. "Puppy love?"

"Oh darling, puppy love and a wolfish lover are two _very_ separate things. One is so sweet it could rot even the healthiest teeth, and the other... well, so hot that it would bring a blush to anyone's cheeks. Perhaps I'll write you a song depicting the both, opposites found in one being," he hummed, tapping his chin.

"Not sure which I would prefer, personally. Puppy love is already what you seem to throw my way, the way you chase me around and rescue me like I'm some damsel in distress," he smirked, brow raised as he turned to watch Geralt get dressed.

He liked this. Their easy banter. The way he could tease and taunt Geralt and he would get the same treatment back.

Geralt laughed, getting himself ready, adjusting the straps to his armor. "Hmm? A song about me maybe?" He smirked, turning to look at Jaskier. 

"You like my puppy love?" He asked, swaying his hips in a show of playing bashful. He knew he could get overly affectionate at times, especially when he was as lost as he is.

《 _'A song about me, maybe? Oh Julian, my sweet little pussy cat~ I'm flattered!'_ 》

Jaskier pushed himself to his feet, his pupils gone to slits, claws digging into his palms. His heart pounded heavily until he realized where he was, who was in front of him and it wasn't— ...it wasn't Gweld.

He released the tension in his muscles, squeezing his eyes closed as he forced out a breath.

"Yes, you big doof. Perhaps a song about you and your adorably annoying puppy love."

"You keep up the flattery and you're going to get yourself hugged." Geralt threatened, a soft look in his eyes, seeing Jaskier go off somewhere else. 

"Wolves play rough you know, don't want all your claws in my belly." He hummed, grabbing up his bags.

His cheeks flushed a bit, biting his tongue.  
"How rough can a big cuddly thing like you really be, then, if you can't handle a little bit of claws?" He teased lightly, raising a brow as he stepped over close towards Geralt.

"Should I go and grab my stuff? Are we leaving?"

 _We._  
Gods, it felt weird to be a 'we' again after the last time.

"We can head out. I was gonna get Roach loaded up, get her some treats before we head out." Geralt hummed, looking out toward where the stables were. "She could use a brushing when we stop again. Along the river, because I'm sure she'd like a bath." He smiled, sniffing his shirt. "She could use one."

"Sure, only _she_ could use another bath. Your armor could use a bath," he laughed, shaking his head as he left Geralt's room to go grab his things from the other room.

He couldn't believe the Wolf really thought he'd had someone in there with him last night... How had he been listening but hadn't realized there was only one heartbeat?

He smiled to himself, putting his stuff over his shoulder before meeting Geralt back out in the hall.

"Ready, pup?"

"Come on. Anywhere you'd like to go?" Geralt asked, following Jaskier back out. "Pretty kitty like you must have somewhere he likes to go?" He hummed, getting Roach set up, feeding her a few apples. 

"Should be hot soon, I'd like to get out of the swamps, can't stand that smell."

"I like to go to big fancy parties and take poor unsuspecting fools to bed to strap them down and kill them," Jaskier hummed, his lips curling up in a smirk as he raised a brow. "But I don't think that's something we can just go and do, so... why don't you tell me someplace you like to do, pretty thing. Where does the prettiest puppy in the whole of the Continent like to go, and perhaps get pampered? Hm?"

"Pampered?" Geralt laughed, thinking a moment. "Well, Oxenfurt. But that's not one of our options so... let's head the other way. Away from all the smelly swamps and water? Don't think you want to risk a wet mutt, huh?" He smiled, loading Jaskier's things up too. 

"Wherever we go, we have to let you play a tavern again."

"Gods no, I do not want to have to keep smelling wet mutt. So, yes, away from the swamps and any other wetlands. I'd say I could take you home to Lettenhove but... well, I'm not sure even my sisters would be pleased to see me," he sighed, shaking his head.  
"Anyway, what's in Oxenfurt that you like so much? They're all so stuffy there, so traditional. I played there once and some pompous son of a whore tried to– uhm... yeah, anyway, I killed him and I'm not allowed there or to play anywhere too close to there."

"They have a good barber there. Fancy food. And it's the only place the sight of my face offending anyone is funny to me." He smirked, starting down the road now, just walking. 

"Want to go to a city? Or just keep hitting the small towns? City's are where there's money, small towns usually a place to sleep. Better company."

"Smaller is better for now, I think," he replied, following beside Geralt, looking up at the sky above them, the trees around them.  
It was actually rather peaceful, walking with him. Like the world seemed to slow down and take a breath, so that they could do the same.

《 _'...it's nice like this, isn't it? You're always so on edge, pussy cat – it's good to take a breath and relax. You trust me, don't you?'_ 》

Geralt just walked for a while, giving Roach a break. He talked to her for a bit, telling her she was good for last night. "Jaskier, tell Roach she's a good and pretty horse and the fastest beast on hooves." He called, trying to get his attention away from wherever he'd just gone.

Again Geralt's voice pulled him from memories and Jaskier blinked, glancing to him a moment as he digested what was said to him.

"Hm? Oh! Roach is a pretty lady, that's for sure. Good and loyal and brave and smart. Certainly at least one of the fastest beasts on hooves," he smiled, pulling close to Geralt and Roach again, realizing he'd drifted away physically as well as mentally for a moment.  
He gave the mare a pat on her side, sighing. "She really cares about you."

Geralt hummed, patting her on the shoulder. "I hope so. I helped deliver her. Every Roach is special, but especially her." He smiled, running his fingers along her coat.

"You have a horse? No. That's not a thing Cats do, right?"

"It's quicker to maneuver without one. Can change your vantage point easily without having to worry about your travel companion. I'm sure the caravan has horses, though, obviously," he shrugged. "If I had a horse like you, it would be more difficult for me to just pick up and go after I've finished my jobs. Would be more difficult for me to just climb up into trees and travel through the branches," he shrugged again, smiling.

"Not to say that traveling this way isn't nice, or that seeing the bond between you and your sweet girl isn't heartwarming. Do you... name all of your horses Roach, then?"

"Yeah... is that wrong?" Geralt asked, shifting awkwardly. "I don't... handle death well. And she's an almost constant companion." He explained, giving her a pet, fussing over her a bit. 

"If I name them all Roach, part of my first girl gets to carry on. It's like she's still here, you know? All of them. Sure they have different personalities, but it's still her." He explained, not sure that was a good enough answer.

"No that's–" he smiled, looking to his feet as he walked, nodding. "Just shows how big of a softie you really are, pup. It's sweet, that you care so much, that you fuss over her, each one of her, and you really seem to love her. So, no, it isn't wrong. It's a coping mechanism of sorts and there's nothing wrong with healthy coping mechanisms."

He could use more of those himself, if he were honest with himself, but healthy coping mechanisms were difficult to stick to when ones emotions run rampant and drown everything else out.

《 _'You're a monster, pussy cat. Worse than things we fight and destroy; it's why you should have just died with the rest of those filthy felines.'_ 》

"Thanks." Geralt hummed, looking up at Jaskier. "You're sweet too you know. Not sure I've heard so many kind words in my life." He purred, looking back out to the road. 

"I'm going to let it go to my head you know, kitty cat." He winked. He wondered where Jaskier's mind kept wandering too. If he'd be alright. 

He wondered if his friend had ever loved Jaskier, how could you not. Or had he been using him all along?

"I am not sweet," he huffed, rolling his eyes even as a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Just giving you honest answers; can't help that the truth in this case is all sugar and no spice. Ask me a harder question and you'll see how spicy I can be, too," he chuckled, but it sounded hollow, like some part of him wasn't there in the moment, was still trapped in whatever memory he was reliving while he was walking this Path again.

Traveling at the side of another Witcher, another Wolf. He couldn't help that he kept thinking of him, that every little thing brought up some stupid memory of him that made Jaskier want to throw things or scream, or break down and cry and just not get up again.

"What's got your mind, Jaskier?" Geralt asked, concern in his eyes. In the short time he'd known him, he'd grown to like him. He was an easy man to love... no. He was easy to like, the banter, his skill, his kind words, it wasn't a question he was a good man. 

He wanted to help whatever was troubling him.

_Shit._

"Oh uhm..."

He could lie. Could say it was something to do with travels or the night or these past months of knowing Geralt and how things had changed and—  
 _Oh gods._  
Things really have changed in these last few months of knowing Geralt. His life seemed to have turned on its head meeting the Wolf for the first time and tackling contracts and other troubles with him. They'd even become... friends. Tentative friends.

"A lot," he replied honestly, sheepishly. He rubbed at the back of his neck and sighed. "I... keep thinking about that I'm doing this again. That I'm letting someone draw me in again and I am traveling with someone again and I can't help but think of–" he gestured absently into the air, as if all the answers were out there, nonverbal.

Geralt nodded, listening to the sound of their steps. "I..." he looked down, taking a deep breath. "I'll be honest, I'm thinking of him too..." he bit his lip in thought, knowing anything he says could set Jaskier off. 

"You deserved better. I just... wish I'd stopped him that night. When he'd asked me to come with. I wish I'd cut him down like I'd threatened to."

"I doubt it would have done anything. Cut him down and some other Witcher with the same ideology as him would have taken his place," he sighed, swallowing down the bitter taste in his mouth.

He didn't agree with Geralt. Didn't agree that he deserved better. Unless by better, he meant that he deserved to have died during the ambush like the rest, because then yes.

"Years of my life I spent with him, traveling with him, sharing his bed. Years of my life I put in trusting him and... and I don't even know if any of it was real. He kept me hidden from everyone, but all the same he was so..."

He shook his head, feeling tears burning in his eyes, feeling the sharp pain of his own claws digging into his palms.

"So, please don't blame yourself, pup. Don't think too long on the choice you made."

"I suppose you're right. Its stupid, and you'll probably hit me over the head, but this turn of events let me meet you." Geralt huffed, regretting it once it was said. He hated feeling like he was always about to say the wrong thing. 

"I just wish... I thought I knew him better, and I wish he had been better. I wish he was the man I thought he was."

"Wishes get us nowhere, I'm afraid, my sweet pup," he hummed, elbowing the big fool gently before pulling away a little again.

_This turn of events let me meet you._

He didn't want to read into those words, but he couldn't help it. Couldn't help but think how fucking convenient it was that he just happened to meet Gweld's best friend and fellow Wolf not overly long after he had finally taken care of Gweld.  
He couldn't help but think about how sweet Geralt was, and how sweet Gweld had been, until he wasn't.

Geralt nodded, still feeling like there was more that needed to be said, but not yet. They walked a while in silence, watching Jaskier shift in and out of his thoughts. 

"Might be time for some rest soon. Any idea where the next town is from here?" He sighed, pushing his hair back from his face. It was going to get hot soon enough, the spring weather passing into summer.

"East, I think. Not sure I regrettably haven't been entirely present and paying attention to where we've been walking and have been just walking for the sake of doing so," he grinned at Geralt, but it did not reach his eyes.

He didn't want this. Didn't want to do this again, he couldn't...

He took in his surroundings, scenting the air around them before nodding.

"That way. Should reach a town that way in a couple hours time. Want to rest first or keep going through?"

"We can rest when we get there... might want to talk while we're there?" He looked down at his feet, one foot in front of the other. 

"You want to split up again, don't you?" He asked, looking down at the ground. It hurt that Jaskier didn't want to be around him, but he understood.

_Guilt._  
Gods he felt guilty.  
His pretty puppy just wanted to keep his company and keep on going off together and Jaskier just... he couldn't.

"I need time, Geralt. I don't know how much time, but I just... I need time. We can travel sparingly together – should we meet on contracts or some other way, we can travel together for a little while but, yes... I'll want to split up again after a bit because I just–" he sighed heavily, running a hand over his face. "I just can't..."

He felt himself drift a bit farther from the Wolf's side, still traveling the same way.

"We can talk about whatever you like when we get there, but we need to stop talking about this for now, okay?"

Otherwise his fight or flight was going to start kicking in with how anxious this was making him, and for this particular topic he usually chose flight.

"Yeah... ok." Geralt nodded, forcing a smile. 

He knew why Jaskier couldn't stay with him, understood. Gweld had been good to him too. And it really wasn't that far in the past so it would feasibly be possible that Geralt might be out for Cats. He wasn't like that though, and even thinking about it filled his gut with disgust, but Jaskier didn't know him from anyone else. Why should he really trust him?

"Hey... I understand. We'll talk at the tavern. Rooms on me again."

It took a few more hours to get there, sun just a little past noon. They'd have some time to rest, give Jaskier some space.

He could feel the pain rolling off of Geralt like rain rolling off a duck. It left a different sort of bitter taste in Jaskier's mouth, knowing that the pain the Wolf was feeling was because of him.  
Geralt just wanted a friend, just wanted to help and to be close to Jaskier. ...but no matter how much he told himself that, he couldn't bring that paranoid part of himself to believe it.

He still was wary of Geralt's every move, was still uneasy of every debt he owed the Wolf.

When they finally arrived at the next town and more specifically, when they made it to the next tavern, Jaskier had worked himself into a heightened state of panic and paranoia and then also worked himself back down. He still felt a little on edge but, some good rest and getting some drink and food, perhaps playing a bit and all of that could wash away. He could be fine.

"Think they'll let me play, here?"

"Only one way to find out." Geralt smiled, looking around the charming little village. "Let's get our rooms and I'll take Roach over to the river. Give her a wash while you rest up. We can talk more later." He offered, wanting Jaskier know he respected his distance.

"...thank you. You sure you won't need help washing her and your armor?" He asked, making his way directly towards the tavern, ready for some rest.  
His mind, more than anything, was what was exhausted.

No one ever said that with heightened emotions would come such mental turmoil too, all this overthinking, overanalyzing and all this constant nagging paranoias.

"I'll manage. Take a nap." Geralt shook his head, leading the way into the inn. "I can come wake you when it starts picking up around here." 

_Please be here when I get back._

"As you did last time. I'll be sure to keep an ear out for you then, pup," he hummed as they were given keys with only mild hesitation on the behalf of the owner.  
Jaskier paused, looking over Geralt carefully before he turned and moved up the stairs to go to the room that was his for the night.  
He locked the door behind him and settled into the bed quickly, drifting off relatively easily on such a comfortable surface.

Geralt went to wash Roach, keeping his hands busy so his mind wouldn't wander to the dark corners of his thoughts.

Jaskier would never want anything to do with him. They would be friends in passing. He'd have to learn to get over him quickly, but he was sure he couldn't. 

He wanted to ease all that pain his once friend had caused. All that doubt he planted into the head of that pretty little kitty. Jaskier was a man who could kill him, easily. He was a man he'd prefer to have on his side, even if that meant they couldn't be all he wanted.

Jaskier's sleep was restless this time around. His mind still far too active for him to sleep near as comfortably as he had the night before. He was curled in on himself even as he tossed and turned, gripping at the bedclothes, at the blanket, at himself.

He woke a few times on his own and finally, on the last time, it seemed busy enough downstairs that he cleaned himself up, pulled on the red doublet instead of his armor and did the makeup of his face as he had before. His lips were a bright and beautiful red, and his eyes were lined with the dark kohl.

He went down to the tavern and he played and he sang, smelling when Geralt came in, hearing his heart beat like before, the interest he held leaning a bit more towards arousal tonight.

Geralt returned from washing Roach and his clothes, seeing Jaskier already up and playing for the filling tavern. 

He looked just as beautiful tonight as he did the other night. Red lips, black lining his eyes, he was stunning, looking like the only thing in the tavern that was in color. His heart skipped just like before; so much he wanted from this man, but he could ask for none of it. 

He put his things in his room, coming back down to enjoy the show, have a few drinks. He'd do his best not to think about how he might be leaving without him in the morning.

As the night carried on, Jaskier sang and danced around the tavern, smiling and winking as he went, taking drinks where he could to keep his throat from getting too dry.

When finally he was too tired to keep going with it all, he finished with one last song, another newer one that, should one pay close enough attention to the words, was definitely about the White Wolf he currently traveled with.

He took a bow when he was finished before turning to tuck his lute back into its case, collecting the cup that held his coin.

Geralt watched, waiting for Jaskier to come over to him, sit with him, share a drink. Maybe he could convince him to stay just a while longer. 

Instead, he watched a beautiful lady make her way up to him. He could hear her whisper praise into his ear, tell him she knew something, that she just knew from his songs. What did she know? She suggested they go upstairs, and from the darkness in those sparkling eyes it looked like Jaskier would agree.

Carefully, he settled his coin cup into his case before closing it up and slinging it over his back, gesturing for the pretty thing to take the lead. He moved behind her, not even throwing Geralt a glance – which he knew was awful, knew he should say something, or... but he was being foolish, himself, and was trying to put distance between them.  
He wanted to make that scent of arousal from the Wolf dissipate, and this was possibly the way to go.

He told the pretty thing which room was his and they entered, him closing the door behind them and setting his lute case by the door.

Geralt watched Jaskier go up the stairs, not even a glance his way. It hurt. He wouldn't deny that, but he supposed the man didn't owe him anything. 

He finished his drink, losing some of his mood before going back up to the room. He climbed into bed, instantly regretting that it was against the wall, able to hear the sounds in the next room. 

He hated himself for it, holding his breath as he took himself in hand, listening to the sounds of both him and the woman.

Jaskier sauntered after her to the bed, a gleam in his eyes as he slipped from his doublet and stood in his bindings and his breeches. The woman smiled to him and beckoned him closer, helping him out of the tight bindings as he undid her dress and kissed along her skin.

He slipped to his knees between hers and pressed a hand up her stomach to her chest to tease and pinch as he dipped his tongue between her folds.  
She gasped and arched back, her lips twitching into a smile.

He took her this way until she was a mess on his face and panting heavily before being pulled up and kissed. They lay together, touching and moving, rolling hips and stealing breaths and gasps and moans until she was exhausted and he was blissed enough that he could sleep again.

She left him, without staying the night, murmuring to him that should he ever be in the area again, that he should find her so they might have a repeat performance.  
He smiled at that and watched her dress herself and leave, closing the door quietly behind her. He sighed, draping an arm over his eyes.

It had been enjoyable, obviously, but... some part of him couldn't stop thinking about Geralt, about the sweet and musky scent of his arousal, still so new, so curious, but certainly there. He wondered if he had ever smelled it on Gweld, but he couldn't... couldn't really recall.

Geralt laid there feeling guilty, ashamed of himself for pleasuring himself to the sounds of his friend through the wall.He wiped himself off on the sheets, hearing the woman leaving. He curled up on his side ready to just sleep. Was it wrong? To want Jaskier though he'd never want him back? 

No harm done, he'd never know, so it was fine, right? It hadn't started as a physical desire, just one he'd realized when he was... imagining that woman was him. 

It didn't matter as long as Jaskier was happy. Even if that meant Geralt had to get over his little crush.

He lay there sprawled out for a little while, just letting his mind race, listening for the heartbeat in the other room. It was quicker than usual for a while and took quite a while for it to slow and steady out in sleep. When he heard that telltale sign of the Wolf resting, Jaskier pushed himself to his feet, got dressed and gathered his things, quickly and quietly. He left a note behind before slipping from the room and from the tavern, getting as far away from here as possible.

_My dear pup,  
I'm sorry to leave you this way, but I'm sure we will meet again on the road. Behave yourself while I'm gone, will you?  
Listen for my music, for my songs. Find me again when we're both ready.  
Jaskier_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear... the boys are splitting up again :(
> 
> Never fear!  
> Listen for the music and in no time they'll be together again!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about missing a chapter yesterday!  
> I recently hurt myself and have been having a difficult time sleeping, so I was too tired for editing yesterday
> 
> I'll make sure this is a good long chapter to make up for it ♡

Geralt woke in the morning, listening for the heartbeat in the next room. Not finding it, he got up in a bit of a panic, knowing the inevitable had happened. 

Before he even saw the note, he knew Jaskier had left. He folded it up, stuffing it in his pocket before packing up and leaving the inn. He found Jaskier's trail and went the opposite way. 

It wasn't until months later, a small tavern in the middle of nowhere that he'd heard his song. It hit him unexpectedly, almost stopping his heart, certainly stopping his thoughts dead in their tracks. 

He rounded the corner of the tavern, bright blue eyes meeting his. He slowly moved to sit, unsure if he'd be able to stand much longer.

Months he traveled alone, taking on odd jobs here and there or playing vigilante where he wasn't exactly wanted but services he could provide were desperately needed. Where he couldn't find work to sate his blades, he found taverns that would let him play. He sang of destiny and heroics. He sang of heartbreak and adventure. He sang of things he knew and he sang of things he didn't, all the while waiting to turn around and find the White Wolf there waiting for him.

Months it took for the poor pup to finally find him, and his trained ears heard his heart stutter, his breath catch before the man rounded the corner.  
Their eyes met and Jaskier couldn't help the smile on his reddened lips, his cheeks flush from all his dancing and singing and drinking. He watched as Geralt took a seat off in a corner and he continued to sing for a while until he couldn't anymore so he set his lute to its case and moved over to Geralt, grabbing a pair of drinks on his way.

"Love how you sit in the corner and watch me while your heart flutters," he purred. "Good to see you, pup."

Geralt looked up, feeling like he was in a dream. He'd thought of all the things he'd wanted to say, both over the course of the months apart and while he was sitting here in this tavern. 

His mouth opened and closed a few times. "I missed you." He managed to say, quiet and low, a smile creeping on his lips. 

"You look wonderful." He complimented, because he did. He was wearing his red doublet, but it had been fixed up a bit. His face looked fuller, like he'd been eating and resting regularly. His shoes were repaired, and his eyes sparkled like the ocean.

The expression on his face softened some as he slipped into the seat across from Geralt, passing him one of the drinks he had brought over.  
"Flattery will get you many places, pup, not always the places you want to be, though. Sap," he teased lightly, "And... I missed you too," he hummed, letting out a breath as he relaxed a little. He took a drink from his ale, his blue eyes looking over Geralt carefully, pupils rounded.

"You look a bit tired, sweet thing. Want to crash in my room before we head off?" He asked nonchalantly, trying to play off the assumption that they would be leaving from this place together.

He had told the man to find him when he was ready, and Jaskier had had plenty of time to cool down and gather his thoughts ...and fly off the handle at animate and inanimate objects alike.  
Surely, that he was here, now, meant he was ready as Jaskier was?

_We._

It hit him, sending his heart racing, looking down at the table. He was a little afraid to sleep, worried he'd wake to find Jaskier had left again. 

"A little rest couldn't hurt, I guess. I'd much rather hear about your travels. What have you been up to, kitten?" He asked, trying not to look too excited to have him here. 

He didn't want to scare him off again. Didn't want him to think it was all some plan, when it wasn't. He enjoyed being around the Cat, glad to be in his company once more, though it didn't feel like he'd thought it would. 

It felt like picking things up where they left them, except better.

He could hear when it hit him, heard when the Wolf caught on to what he'd said.  
 _We._  
His heart picked up and Jaskier barely hid the curl of his lips behind the rim of his cup.

"Mm, oh you know. Hopping around here and there, helping humans whether they like it or not, taking out some more annoying pests – and I don't just mean monsters, if you catch my meaning," he hummed, wriggling his eyebrows playfully, resting his chin on his palm, elbow on the table.

"What of you? Been traveling well, you and your pretty lady?" He asked, taking another drink from his ale, feeling pleasantly hazy from all the drink and the excitement– both of his audience and of his own, seeing his pup again.

Geralt looked out to the stables to his horse, glad he still remembered her. He felt like he was floating, hoping the feeling wouldn't fade. 

"Much the same. Came into the area, heard talk of a strange Witcher playing songs in taverns. Hoped I'd catch one of your shows." He smiled, drinking from his ale. 

"Think this might be the year I retire the old girl though. Should start feeling a chill in the air and her poor knees aren't what they used to be." He frowned, sad he'd part with her for a while.

"Oh," Jaskier furrowed his brow, looking down into his ale, a sadness rolling across his face. "What do Witcher horses do when they retire? Do you have a place for them, or..."

He hoped the old girl would have somewhere she could stay and live out the rest of her days. Surely she had seen many things in her lifetime. ...he wondered if maybe he could write a song for her.

"What will you do for the winter? I rarely ever see Wolves out in the snow."

"Go home." Geralt smiled, looking back to the stables. "Roach's plans for retirement will most likely be laying in the stables and grazing at Kaer Morhen getting fat. Sometimes we use the retired horses to help us with supply runs, but usually they just rest. Sometimes I find her a place she can be useful, but this girl just deserves to rest." 

He grinned, looking to Jaskier. "Where do you go in the winter? Must be somewhere you curl up?"

"Whatever cave I can find that isn't already occupied by one monster or another," he shrugged, downing the rest of his ale. "Sometimes I just have to keep walking, moving from resting place to resting place in the woods," he sighed, not particularly looking forward to a cold and lonely winter again.

There was really no work in the winter, except maybe if he was lucky and could find a place to play his music.

"But, that sounds nice, for you and for her. Mostly for her," he chuckled, setting his cup down, leaning back in his seat.

"You should come with me this winter." Geralt offered, trying to hide his excitement. "Not many of us Wolves. Usually just four or five of us, really that's all that's left now. Sometimes a guest." He explained, hoping he could give him a place to rest. 

"I'd like my brothers to meet you, please?" He looked at him, eyes wide and hopefully. "You can have your own room. There's food and hot baths, fine wine, anything you could want."

It was his turn for his heart to stutter irregularly, his breath catching as his pupils went round.

"You... you want me to join you at Kaer Morhen for the winter...?" He asked, his voice so quiet, so tentative, like he didn't believe the words he was saying and gods, he didn't. He wanted to, more than anything because... because Gweld never even suggested it.  
Never even told him about his winters, his brothers, or where Kaer Morhen was.

He knew now that was because he didn't trust Jaskier, and didn't really want to be known to have dealings with a Cat. That he never loved Jaskier even as he promised he did, swore he did.

...and here was Geralt, this big dumb wonderful Wolf, offering to bring him, practically begging for Jaskier to go with, to meet his brothers, to spend winter somewhere safe and warm.

How could he say no?

"I...you... I mean are you sure? You think that's... a good idea? Your brothers won't– I mean _did_ kill– so I mean are you really sure because I need you to be absolutely one-hundred percent sure here, pup..."

"As long as you are, yes." Geralt nodded, feeling like Jaskier was going to agree to it. It was enough to worry about him for the few months they were apart. It was going to be difficult agonizing about him during the long cold months. 

"As long as I tell them to be good to you, my brothers will be. They'll come to respect you, I know that. You'll be safe there." He reassured, knowing they'd be assholes, but they would never bother him. Especially since he was Geralt's guest.

"...okay," he breathed, his voice trembling a little, overwhelmed for a different reason, a different sort of feeling. Tears welled in his eyes, pupils still rounded as he gripped the table, needing something to stabilize him and remind him this was real.

"Okay. I'll go with you, to Kaer Morhen for the winter. Meet your brothers. Spoil your pretty lady with sugar cubes."

Geralt tilted his head, his excitement dying down a little. "Are you alright?" He asked, concerned for Jaskier, worried he'd said the wrong thing again.

Jaskier closed his eyes and smiled brightly, wiping at his eyes as he nodded. "Yes my dear, I'm very alright. Just... overwhelmed. Good overwhelmed though," he breathed, reaching across the table to grab Geralt's hand, squeeze it reassuringly. "This will be the first winter I don't have to worry about being cold, or not finding food..."

"You'll be more worried about how you can get your armor to fit in the spring." Geralt laughed, patting his belly in show. 

"I'll be happy to show you around my home. Get you your own room." He offered, already imagining what it could be like to have his new friend so close for the winter.

"Oh, I'm sure I'll never eat quite enough to have trouble fitting into my armor," he chuckled, shaking his head, his pupils still wonderfully rounded as he looked at Geralt.

He would have a bed and company and food and... this winter wasn't going to be a struggle to survive. What was that like?  
Well, guess he would find out, obviously.

"Thank you, Geralt. Really... I'm– I'm actually looking forward to winter."

Geralt smiled, leaning forward a little. "Means you'll have to stick around with me a little." He reminded, hoping Jaskier would.

"We'll head back earlier than usual. Get there first. Show you off to Vesemir and get you settled in before the others come." He explained, his eyes getting caught on blue ones. 

His pupils so round, he must be excited about not having to work at surviving a whole winter alone. He couldn't even imagine that.

"Oh, you're going to show me off, are you? Like some sort of prize to be won?" He asked, brow raised as he smiled, leaning forward as well, getting closer to Geralt, licking his own lips.

"Do you think he'll be okay with me being there with you? Vesemir is the head of your school, right?"

"He is now." Geralt nodded, his attention drawn to the tongue at Jaskier's red lips. "He raised me. He might be... reluctant at first, but he trusts me." He took a breath, looking back up at Jaskier's eyes, so close now. They had little flecks of gold hiding in the blue that he hadn't noticed before. 

"And I trust you. You'll have a place to stay, a room of your own, and anything you could possibly need. And I'll be there to bother you."

"You trust far too easily, my dear pup. I mean, I have, on multiple occasions, put a blade to your throat with the intent on using it should I need to. And yet you trust me?" He asked, tilting his head, still leaned across the table.  
He could feel Geralt watching him, could smell the interest, sweet and a bit tangy. It felt nothing like when Gweld would look at him. Geralt smelled... curious, and honest. Gweld had always smelled like lust, with not much else beyond that.  
Knowing nothing else, Jaskier had always assumed that that was the strongest feeling Wolves were capable of, the rest of their feelings repressed or trained down.

Geralt was different, in so many wonderful ways, and Jaskier was trying so hard to see that and believe that it wasn't all just another elaborate ploy.

"Perhaps I can play for your brothers, if you'd like."

"You've held a blade to my throat, but you have yet to use it, kitten." Geralt smiled, sitting back when being so close became too much. He drank from his cup, giving himself a distraction. 

"I'm sure my brothers would love to have you play for them! I do know Lambert enjoys dancing... he is complete shit at it though." He leaned in like he was telling a secret, a pleased grin on his face. 

Jaskier would come with him. He was still trying to convince himself it was real. That he'd agreed. It would be nice, bringing some warmth to his winter months.

"Lambert? One of your brothers, then?" Jaskier smiled, head still tilted as he looked at Geralt, his expression holding such a fondness for the Wolf across from him that it hurt.  
It hurt to care for him so, when there was still this large part of himself that believed this might be a trap.

He shook off the feeling though, temporarily, leaning back finally, draping his arms behind his seat.  
"Do you want to stay here with me tonight? And we'll move on in the morning and head towards Kaer Morhen?" He asked casually. "There aren't any other rooms open, but you can share mine. Just like sharing outside, only the bed is way more soft than a bedroll on the ground."

Geralt felt his heart squeeze at that, sharing space with Jaskier again. "Please." He nodded, finishing his ale, looking up at the man across from him. 

"Are Cats as cuddly as everyone says?"

"Until they dig their claws into you at random and don't let go," Jaskier smirked, pushing himself free of his seat, smiling and blowing a kiss to the young lady behind the bar, who flushed and waved at him before hurrying to the table with their food and drinks.

"Are Wolves as warm and loud as everyone says? Because I do believe I've heard your snoring through walls – can't imagine how I'll ever sleep with that up close," he teased.

Geralt laughed, pointing at Jaskier. "I do _NOT_ snore." A mock threat, though there was really no way he knew that. 

Food was set down in front of him, thanking both the young lady and Jaskier as he began to eat. 

"Do you purr? Or do I have to work for that?"

His cheeks flushed a bright warm color, pointedly looking down at his food, clearing his throat.  
"Ah, well... I'm not sure? It's not like I've ever had a reason to purr, so I can't really, uhm... I can't say if I do, or not, or if it's something you should work towards or not."

It wasn't entirely true.  
He'd purred before, with Gweld.  
The first time they laid together and Gweld held him after, whispering softly to him about how wonderful he was, how special. He's fallen asleep purring in the man's arms.

...but it was only ever that first time.

Geralt hummed, watching him in amusement, a little interest laying there too. 

"Well, I suppose I'll have to see." He winked, looking back up to him. "Maybe give you a good scratch behind the ear?" He teased, ready to feel a hard kick to his shin. "Perhaps the chin?"

He did, of course, give Geralt a good kick under the table as he laughed and rolled his eyes. "Careful of your hands too close to my face, pup, might find that you'll lose a finger or two," he teased, chowing down on his food.  
He had a better appetite than last Geralt had been with him, having been making a bit more coin and having been able to take care of himself a little better.

"And don't you dare try to rub my belly, or you'll have claws _and_ teeth digging into places you'd rather not have sharp things dig into."

Geralt laughed, glad to see Jaskier looking far healthier than when they'd first met. 

"I dont think I'd like sharp things digging into anywhere in me." He tilted his head, considering Jaskier nails. Then again... 

"Alright. I'll behave and keep my hands to myself. No scratching your belly, no chin, maybe your head and ears?"

Jaskier huffed, giving Geralt another kick beneath the table. "As persistent as ever then. Some things don't change, do they dear?" He hummed, returning to eating his food.

"Now shush and eat. I'm pleasantly tired from all my dancing and singing and I'd like very much for you to bathe and climb into my bed."

Geralt couldn't help but let that heat his cheeks, knowing he didn't mean it like that, though his mind did wander momentarily. 

"Anything you'd like, kitten." He agreed, quieting down and eating his own food, enjoying the drink and quiet company.

Once he was finished eating, he waited for Geralt to finish as well, leaving a few coins on the table for the pretty bar lady. He grabbed Geralt's hand and wordlessly led the Wolf up the stairs and to the room that was his for the past few nights. There was a warm bath waiting for him already, but Jaskier released Geralt's hand and moved to the bed, flopping unceremoniously into it, waving at the Wolf.

"Strip and bathe – you smell like selkiemore guts and a few other choice things," he hummed, draping an arm over his eyes. "Promise I won't watch."

Geralt looked at the water, seeing it still steaming hot. He stripped eagerly, ready to just soak a while. 

"Think you'll be able to tolerate the smell of wet dog then? Or is it growing on you?" He teased lightly, setting into the water with a shaking sigh.

"It's awful and I could never ever let such a smell grow on me," he huffed, perking up when he heard Geralt submerge himself into the water.  
"Which is why, now, I'm going to add some lovely scents to your bath," he hummed, clambering off of the bed to go to his bag, grabbing a couple vials – one that smelled of lavender and another that smelled of peppermint.

He hurried over to the tub and poured some of each in with Geralt, plopping himself down at the edge of the tub.  
"There we are, my sweet pup. Already smelling so much better. Masks that pesky wet dog smell."

Geralt smiled to Jaskier, relaxing himself into the water. "That is the most polite way I've ever seen anyone be rude and I think I'll excuse it because its you." He hummed, splashing him lightly.

"Next you'll be complaing about how I wear my hair and beard." He huffed, leaning against the edge of the tub.

"Well actually, since you've brought it up—" Jaskier laughed, finding himself nuzzling against Geralt, running his fingers into the man's hair. "Since your hair is getting long, do you think you'll let me braid it for you? I could run oils through it to make it smell lovely and to help the health of your hair..."

Geralt felt his heart pick up again at the feeling of Jaskier's finger's through his hair. 

"If you wanted to. Not sure I'd complain to getting a little pampered." He agreed, anything to keep Jaskier close and touching him.

The Cat hummed, propping himself up a bit better so that he could work his fingers through Geralt's hair. He dripped scented oil on his hands and ran them through again before starting to absently braid the Wolf's hair.

"It's gotten so long since I first met you, you know? Mine's gotten a bit unruly too, if I may say so. You should see the mess it is if I sleep while it's wet..."

"I think your hair always looks so soft." Geralt looked up to Jaskier, relaxing under his touch. "Could always cut it for you, but it looks good, so I'd rather not." 

He sighed, letting his head rest back. "Are you bathing next? Or did I make the water too dirty? Maybe you'll let me do yours next time?"

"Oh my sweet pup, I uhm... maybe. But I much prefer bathing alone, and, yes, in water that hasn't already been used by someone who has clearly only been rinsing in rivers and streams," Jaskier smiled, nuzzling against the man's neck, scenting him. He smelled far better now, and it was actually lovely to be so close to him. He closed his eyes a moment, taking in a breath before he went back to working on the braids.

"I won't make you cut it, or ask you to. Think I'll let it grow out a bit during the winter, until it gets to be too much. It's been a while since I've let it go."

Geralt hummed, nodding at the thought of Jaskier with long hair. "You do have the neck for it, but I'm sure you look good no matter what you do."

He would love to have Jaskier use the baths at Kaer Morhen. They had such large tubs, shared baths too. He could return the favor of all of Jaskier's warm touches, his sniffing and rubbing.

He was sure the smaller Witcher might like a nice massage.

"Flatterer," he huffed softly, finishing off his work on the braids, trailing his claws along Geralt's neck teasingly before pushing himself to his feet, dusting off.

"Alright now, I was good and courteous and didn't look while you stripped bare so... promise me you'll do the same. I'd like to change into my bed things."

Geralt shivered at the feeling of Jaskier's claws against his neck. He sighed heavily as if being given a great and difficult task. "Alright fine. I'll busy myself with my soak." He hummed, sinking down into the water, resting his head against the back of the tub, kicking his feet out to fit himself better.

Jaskier glanced to him, chuckling softly at the big Wolf, too big to fit in that tub without some parts hanging out. Smiling fondly, he carefully slipped himself out of his doublet, chemise, binding and then finally his breeches. He rummaged in his bag for his nightgown that he had gotten for himself, slipping it over his head.

"Alright pup, I'm decent now."

Geralt opened his eyes, yawning and sitting up. "Oh..." he smiled at him, lovely dark nightgown making him realize how small the other Witcher really was.

"I don't have any night clothes. Wasn't exactly prepared for the sleepover." He smiled up at him, looking around for a towel.

He heard the Wolf's heart beat flutter again, which made him smile. "Ah... well, I could just... climb into bed and you can join me as you are, if you like. I'd prefer not having your armor in bed. Doubt it would be comfortable, one, but also it still smells a bit..."

"You are so incredibly rude." Geralt huffed, a warm smile on his face. "All the same, climb under the covers. I'll dry off and join you." 

He shifted out of the water, grabbing the towel, drying himself with it before wrapping it around his waist. "No peeking now." He growled low, putting the candles in the room out before climbing into the bed after him, dropping the wet towel to the side.

Jaskier scurried to the bed, pulling the blanket over himself as he squeezed his eyes closed to give Geralt privacy.  
"Are you complaining of my rudeness, dearest?" He asked, quirking a brow even as he had his eyes closed. When he heard the low growl of the Wolf's voice, felt the bed shift under his weight, he curled his fingers into the bed clothes beneath him, his heart skipping a little quicker.

Opening his eyes, once Geralt settled, he blinked in the darkness, confused a moment until he realized what the sound had been of the Wolf dousing the candles.

"Alright, pup?"

"Alright." He hummed, settling in and covering himself in the blankets. 

"Are you alright like this?" He asked, double checking. "Still not to late for me to get my bed roll and sleep on the floor." He offered, not wanting to leave the bed that already smelled so strongly of Jaskier. Wasn't sure if he could, his eyes already feeling so heavy.

"Don't you dare even think about leaving this bed until morning, mutt, or I'll have your tail," he huffed, turning towards the Wolf now, in the dark.

He could see him, even like this. He could see his golden eyes, the braid of his hair, the silvery scars on his shoulders that weren't covered by the blanket.  
He could safely admit, in the dark and quiet of the room, that Geralt was beautiful. He found him to be beautiful.

With a smile on his lips, and a contented hum in his throat, he curled himself up against the Wolf's side, feeling that, indeed, the other Witcher was at least slightly warmer than he was.

"I like when you threaten me." Geralt hummed, catching blue eyes looking him over. He was sure Jaskier could see in the dark better than he could. 

"I thought I said no peeking." He hummed, letting his eyes slip shut, enjoying the feeling of the smaller man curled up at his side.

"I am seeing less of your skin here in bed than I could see while you were bathing, dearheart. I certainly wouldn't consider looking at your shoulders and your neck to be _'peeking'_ ," he paused, rolling his eyes as he put on a scandalized expression, with the addition of a gasp, "I mean, oh dear, how scandalous! I can see your shoulders you absolute whorish Wolf," he rolled his eyes again, laughing against Geralt's chest, finding himself kneading against his warmer skin.

"You're the one with your hand on my breast! What would the innkeeper think!?" Geralt gasped, sounding scandalized himself. "All my virtue and girlish charm, right out the window." He sighed dramatically, breaking it off with a laugh. He let Jaskier move closer, settling close to him. 

"I will warn you. Wolves are night snugglers. Don't blame me if you wake up properly cuddled."

Jaskier's cheeks warmed and he was then thankful for the darkness, and that the Wolf surely couldn't see as well in the dark as he could.

"Well, I suppose this is a chance I'm willing to take, and as for your virtue and girlish charm, well... sacrifices must be made, pup, and those are certainly acceptable sacrifices for this sweet moment," he chuckled again, nuzzling against Geralt's side.

"Now... hush, mutt. Sleep time. I've missed your snoring."

Geralt hummed, wrapping an arm around Jaskier, holding him close. He let himself relax, let himself actually sleep instead of just resting or meditating. 

It was peaceful sleep, dreams full of the coming winter. He was excited to see his family again, show his new friend off to them. While at the same time spoiling Jaskier, letting him be part of a pack again.

Feeling the Wolf relax against him, his breathing even and his heart slow, Jaskier smiled against his skin, letting himself relax as well. He didn't drift off, though, until he heard the first snuffle of a snore from his Wolf, a sleepy chuckle leaving him as he finally allowed himself drift to sleep.

He woke the next morning, warmer than he had been since the summer, draped beneath Geralt's arms and pressed tightly against him, still curled up.

Geralt was still snoring quietly, face buried against Jaskier's shoulder, arms wrapped across him. It wasn't exactly a proper snuggle, but it would do. 

He slowly started coming back, feeling the body beneath him shifting slightly. He hummed, low and deep in his chest, eyes peeking open before closing again. A smile lazily stretched across his face, sighing contentedly. 

"Goodmorning."

"It is indeed morning," Jaskier huffed, trying to play as being annoyed, but he was sure the smile in his voice and the way he only snuggled closer to Geralt were dead giveaways that he didn't mean it.

"Did you sleep well, pup?" He asked, and then, "You certainly weren't lying when you said you're a real night snuggler. It's also true that you run a little warmer than I do, did you know?"

"Its because I'm bigger than you." Geralt hummed, breathing in the scent of Jaskier at his neck, nuzzling closer. 

"You're quite cuddly yourself. I'm not going to get any claws in anywhere I don't want them, am I?"

"Depends. There any place you do want claws?" He asked, a soft laugh leaving him as he felt himself instinctually kneading at the Wolf's chest again, almost drifting back to sleep with the warmth he felt against the chill that he knew to be in the air beyond the safety of bed and blanket.

"You want the honest answer?" Geralt laughed, feeling his cheeks heat up. 

He wouldn't mind thinking about Jaskier's claws dug into his shoulders while he... nope. No. Not going to happen. 

Though it was probably fine to think about, maybe not while he was cuddling in bed with the man. Especially not while he was still quite naked.

_Oh—_

Oh, he could hear the pace of Geralt's heart, the catch of his breath, shakey and he could smell the arousal between them now, rolling off of Geralt's skin and flooding his senses.

"Of course I want the honest answer. I would rather hope you wouldn't think to lie to me, pup. Wouldn't be very nice to lie–" he squirmed a little, grumbling. "You're much bonier than I remember you being, dearest."

Geralt quickly shifted his hips to the side, away from Jaskier's squirming, breathing out a little nervous laugh. "Uh... not my bones... sorry." He answered sheepishly. 

"Not exactly something I can help, either, sorry. Just waking up and all. Doesn't help you're so pretty either." He kicked himself mentally, knowing that was completely inappropriate.

When it dawned on him, Jaskier's cheeks heated and he buried his face against Geralt's side.

"Fuck– sorry, pup, I uhm..."

_Doesn't help you're so pretty–_

"...you think I'm pretty?"

Was that because of him, or was his being close and noticing it and all just not helping the situation.

《 _'What to help me out, pussy cat?'_ 》

"S-Sorry..."

He didn't move away, though.

Geralt laughed, burying his face in Jaskier's neck, a little embarrassed about the whole situation. 

"I've only been telling you I think so since I met you." He snorted, moving his hips further away, rolling himself to lay on his stomach. 

"It'll go away soon enough. Did you sleep well?"

He could offer to help, probably, but... but that would be weird, right? It would change the dynamic of things and he really—  
No.  
No, it's fine. He said it would go away so, he would believe his words.

"Slept the best I have since that sleep that almost got us both killed," he hummed, pressing his knees into Geralt's side as he curled against him.

The smell of arousal was still heavy in the air and some of it was rolling off of him, too. A sweet scent compared to the musky scent from Geralt.

Geralt couls smell the scent of arousal in the air too, his and the sweeter scent of Jaskier's. He was just waking up as well, it was only natural. Nothing to do with him. 

"I'm glad. Also glad we almost didn't die this time too." He laughed, stretching himself. He really did not want to get out of this bed.

"Would be a bit more awkward this time, I think, if we somehow managed to die. I mean, surviving a leshy but then somehow being killed while sleeping at an inn?" He laughed softly, shaking his head as he squeezed his legs together, staying as curled into himself as he could, even as Geralt stretched himself out.

"How pitiful would that be? Out of everything we've lived through and we're taken out in an inn." He laughed, shaking his head.

"Alright, guess I should start getting up." He sighed, scooting to the edge of the bed.

"Would be just my luck, I don't know what you're talking about. Don't you know Cats are bad luck and all that? I've surely used up all of my nine lives by now," he chuckled, his pupils going round as Geralt scooted away from him.

"Suppose I should—"

He turned away, burying his head under the blanket so he wasn't tempted to look at the way the sunlight would surely kiss the Wolf's skin, naked and littered with scars as all good Witcher's were.

Geralt sighed, moving to his clothes. He pulled on his underclothes and trousers. "Alright. I'm decent." He called, pulling a different shirt from his bag to pull on. 

"Would you like me to head down while you get ready? Get us something to eat?"

"You could, if you feel like being the sweetest most wonderful pup to ever grace the morning light," he grinned, pushing himself up and to the edge of the bed, his nightgown riding up a little, but not enough to show anything off.

"We can eat and then hit the road, if that's what you'd like. Or we can stock up on some supplies before we leave town? I do have some spare coin now, from playing here for three nights."

"Set up shop, hmm? Were you waiting for me?" Geralt asked, enjoying the idea of that. 

He grabbed up his bags, ready to load Roach up again. "I'll be waiting downstairs. Take your time. I'm not going anywhere."

"I... may have been hoping you would find me sooner rather than later, yes," he murmured, feeling warmth in his cheeks as he fiddled with the slightly frilly edge of his nightgown. He didn't look up at Geralt, didn't want to know the other man's expression and he surely didn't want his nervous little smile to be shown, either.

"I'll meet you downstairs in a little bit. Have to pack my things, make sure I've got it all," he looked up then, smiling reassuringly. "I'm not leaving this place without you, pup. I promise."

Geralt smiled back, looking Jaskier over once more before leaving the room. He went down the stairs, feeling content for the first time in a long time. 

He went out the front and over to the stable, setting Roach up, getting her some fruit, before heading back in. He waited for Jaskier, excited to be back on the road with him.

Alone, Jaskier took the spare moment to... _relieve some issues_ he was feeling before slipping from bed and pulling his nightgown over his head. He bundled it up carefully and got dressed in his underclothes, bindings, breeches and armor.  
His search across the room for any of his belongings was meticulous and careful, gathering everything together and packing up before slinging his bags and lute case over his shoulder. He made his way down the stairs and followed his nose to his pup, setting his stuff down to slide into the seat across from Geralt.

"I'm all set. Was there anything in particular you need before we set out? I have to see if I can find somewhere that might sell rosin, for my lute strings."

"We can look." He nodded, smiling when food was set down between them. 

"Maybe some oil for the wood of it too? Winters can be cold, hard on the wood." He suggesting, not knowing much about an instrument, but it did make sense.

"I've plenty of that, as I use it as sparingly as I can. Rosin is usually easier to come by, since I'm far more picky about what oil I use for the wood," he sighed, eyes lighting up as he started to dig into breakfast.

"But it's sweet of you to think of it, dearest."

Gweld was never so thoughtful.

Geralt smiled, watching Jaskier eat. "Well, you're to be the live in entertainment. I'm hoping to hear your songs all winter. Can't have your lute falling out of repair on us." He teased, turning to his own breakfast. 

"Anything else you need? Kaer Morhen is still a ways off, but it's not close to much. We'll do a major supply and stock run, but not much after that."

"Well if that's the case, then I should see if I can't find some spare strings. I used my last spare before getting here," he paused, a wicked curl of his lips. "And I'll just say it wasn't to replace a busted string on my lute," he purred, gently bumping his foot against Geralt's leg as he went back to eating like he hadn't just casually admitted to killing someone with a lute string.

Geralt rolled his eyes, shouting a glare across the table. "I'll pretend I didn't hear that." He muttered, the small smile on his face betraying him. 

Assassination wasn't something here agreed with, but it was part of the Cat's code. It was allowed. Who was he to argue?

He hummed, grinning to himself. "Does it make you feel weird, pup? Knowing I don't just kill troublemaking monsters, but that I take out people, too?" He asked curiously, tilting his head as he looked over Geralt.

Other than Cats, the only other School that seemed to condone the harm of humans, the meddling in the affairs of men, were the Vipers, also known for assassinations, but mostly via their concocted poisons.  
As it was something normal to him, he never even thought that perhaps it was... wrong, to Geralt, to hear of not only the contracts he took on monsters but the contracts he took on people.

"I could keep those sorts of things to myself, if it makes you squeamish my darling."

"Squeamish!?" Geralt shot him a wide eyed look with a bark of a laugh. He shook his head. 

"No, it's not that. And I'd like to hear about your work. Just have to get used to it." He shrugged, wondering if he could. "I try not to meddle in the matters of men. Politics isn't my thing. But I do know people take contracts on assassins."

"Oh but my darling pup– you actually _do_ meddle in the matters of men. All of the time," Jaskier chuckled softly. "When we first met, that was meddling in the matters of men, sweet thing. We weren't after what could be classified as other beings, we were killing human men. ...and taking care of wraiths, sure, but men."

"I said I try not to." Geralt huffed, absolutely not pouting as he ate the rest of his breakfast. 

"All the same, I'll leave that side of it to you. You seem proficient in it anyway, not so much a hack and slash type." He added, a little flattery.

Jaskier hummed, smiling as he nudged Geralt's leg with his foot, not looking up to him as he continued to eat his own breakfast.

"I may not seem the hack and slash type, but don't you dare underestimate me, pup, because I can just as easily hack and slash as I can kill a man with the strings of my lute," he winked, looking at Geralt from under his lashes, his pupils rounded again.

"Oh, I'm not underestimating you. I'm praising you." Geralt hummed, loving the way Jaskier looked at him like that. 

"In all honesty, I think you might be able to take me out. There's a grace to your fighting. You're unpredictable." He whispered, leaning in, a smirk on his lips. "Except that I know you'll always hold a blade to my throat. And I will always let you."

The Cat's cheeks warmed, his heart thudding quickly in his ears as his breath caught. He averted his gaze down to his food in front of him, digging his claws into the table, leaving little grooves in it.

"...stupid mutt," he muttered, chewing his cheek. "That's the stupidest most sappy fucking thing I've ever heard. Me, graceful? Me, unpredictable?" He grinned, but bit his lip to try to tame it down. "Well, that last thing maybe. But! But you'll always let me put a blade to your throat? I mean really, pup? That's dangerous; I'm the only one allowed to have a death wish."

"Its not a death wish if I know you won't slit my throat." Geralt hummed, his own pupils going round now. "And I trust you won't. I'd never give you a reason to."

"...dummy," he muttered quietly, unable to bite back his stupid smile, so he shoveled breakfast food into his mouth instead.

Why would the stupid Wolf trust him? Did he forget he was a Cat? Forget that he'd killed a Wolf already, amongst plenty of other beings?

His heart thudded heavily in his chest, his other hand still digging claws into the table.

"A Cats unpredictability means that we don't need rhyme or reason for doing violent things, sometimes we just do violent things because an overwhelming feeling tells us to."

"Well, if you ever have the feeling that you're going to kill me, slit my throat, do me a favor?" Geralt leaned forward, pushing his plate to the side. "Look me in the eyes while you do it. If you're going to kill me, at least give me that dignity."

His breathing stopped, his heart slamming in his chest as he forced himself to look up at Geralt, pupils dilating and contracting and settling on being as round as fucking saucers.

"You're the biggest idiot to ever walk the face of the Continent, pup..." he breathed, barely above a whisper, his body feeling far too warm suddenly and he had the intense urge to jump to his feet and run, hightail it away from this idiot that trusted him so explicitly that he would knowingly stay at the Cat's side like this.

He trusted him so much, that he didn't seem to give a damn that he might also die at his hand... His only request was to look him in the eyes as he did.

Unable to tear his gaze away from him now, Jaskier felt the table give under his claws, breaking a piece from the table and splintering into his hand. He yelped, jumping up now, feeling the warmth of his blood pull him from the trance he'd lost himself in.

Geralt had lost himself in Jaskier's eyes, blue hardly visible around all that black. There was a heat there, an understanding that the Cat might be the one to do him in, and he'd let him. 

He really didn't think he was that wrong about him though. 

His trance broken by the sound of wood cracking, the scent of blood filling his nose. 

"Oh shit." He breathed a laugh, looking around to the innkeeper, standing quick. "I'll pay for that!" He called before turning to Jaskier. "Are you alright?"

With a hiss of pain, Jaskier pulled the wood splinter from his hand, huffing. "Yeah, m'fine. Just a little blood," he shrugged, glad he had finished his food so it wouldn't be ruined.

"But you– you're a big damn idiot, pup! ...but if you're done eating we should get the hell out of here and get moving. Before I break something else thinking about how dumb you are."

"Just that stupid, huh?" Geralt laughed, giving the innkeep the coin to fix the table. 

"Let's go. I can't afford you to break anything else and you seem to dumb me down." He accused, heading out the door, helping with Jaskier's bags.

Before letting Geralt take them all, Jaskier pulled a cloth strip from his bag and wrapped it around his hand, binding up the wound in it.

"Right! Searching for supplies and then we hit the road. Is there anything we need to look for for you, Geralt?"

Geralt shook his head. "No. Everything I need is back home." He smiled, watching Jaskier. "Let's see if we can't find a merchant then. Or should we head into the city?" He asked, starting the way down the road.

"I'd rather not make any further stops. You know cities and me don't exactly see eye to eye," he murmured, his expression darkening slightly. "Might try stringing me up and oh, what fun that would be while we're just trying to find some fucking rosin."

"You did say you wanted strings, kitten." Geralt smirked, heading toward the town's merchant he'd seen on his way in. Maybe he'd have something. 

"How's it made? If we can't find any maybe I can make it for you." He offered, going through his bags. Maybe something he'd picked up had some worth.

"It's pine resin, heated and hardened back up again," he replied with a sigh. "I could make my own, but collecting enough resin is a pain in the ass when I never really stay in one place too long," he added, gently bumping Geralt.

"So, if you've got some lovely resin you've been hiding from me–" he smiled, moving past the Wolf to the merchant with a bit of a smile.

"Good-morning."

Geralt waited next to Jaskier, wanting to be sure he doesn't cause any trouble. 

He hoped the merchant would have what he needed, wanting to head home, show Jaskier around before the others got there.

With luck on his side for once, the merchant had what he was needing, and was kind enough to part with it for a lower price, having enjoyed Jaskier's shows at the tavern over the past three nights.  
Leaving with a smile, the smaller Witcher bumped against Geralt, peeking up at him.

"Ready to hit the road, mutt?"

"Ready to see your new home off the road?" Geralt hummed, bumping him back. "I really hope you like it there. Would be nice to see your face there every year, know you'll be there even if we spilt up." He was thinking out loud, knowing he could be rather chatty when he was comfortable around someone.

Jaskier flinched slightly, his body tensing some. "It's- this is just a one time thing, mutt, don't go getting any funny ideas okay? Don't even know if I'll really be welcomed there or if I'll feel comfortable enough to stay or... or any of it, so don't put your cart before your horse, or whatever the fucking phrase is," he huffed, pushing forward a bit, walking a little faster than the Wolf.

"Cats don't have homes, anyway."

"Plenty of cats have homes." Geralt huffed, knowing Jaskier was right. "Even if you don't like it there, you're always welcome as my guest." He sighed, following behind Jaskier for a while before taking lead. 

"If we get there early, I'll have to help with repairs, but don't feel like you need to do anything. Just relax when we get there, alright?"

"Oh yeah, because I'm sure me lazing about as everyone thinks Cats do will make just the most excellent of impressions on this Vesemir, and your brothers," he sighed, feeling his skin tingling, his heart working a little fast.

Anxious.  
Gods he was anxious.  
Aside from Gweld, and the Witchers that attacked his School, Jaskier had never actually... been around any other schools Witcher except Geralt.  
He didn't know how to be, how to act. Should he be what they expected of a Cat or should he go against everything they anticipated?  
Cool and aloof?  
Crazed fucking overemotional, overstimulated psychopath that murdered their brother?

"Relax, Jaskier. They're not going to immediately jump down your throat." Geralt sighed, knowing his companion was getting that panicked look again.

"You're a guest, you're not expected to do anything but enjoy yourself. I'm not going to tell them about Gweld, though I should since they never seemed to like him much." He huffed, hating that his brother was right. 

"They'll be happy to meet you. No one is going to really care you're a Cat. Not once you earn their respect." He said simply, looking over to Jaskier. "And you will. You're a good Witcher. Not as good as me, mind you."

He was following right along until the end, where he huffed and stopped, whipping around to give Geralt a swift punch to the stomach, not holding a bit of himself back.

"Don't get cocky darling, you know I'll be all too happy to put you in your place," he hummed, fluttering his lashes a bit as he smiled up at his Wolf.

"How do I earn their respect?"

Geralt was able to tense his stomach muscles just enough that it wasn't horrible, but it did shift his feet. 

"Careful, I might like that too much." He grinned, looking down to Jaskier. "You'll just have to be yourself, Jaskier. They'll respect you." He reassured.

"So what, you're a masochist now too, pup? Or you just like tough Cats putting your dumb butt in line?" He smirked, wiggling his eyebrows, but the look faded quickly, overpowered by the anxieties in his head.

"But I– ...being myself is dangerous and doesn't usually...lead to good things," he murmured absently, chewing at his lower lip, returning to walking in the direction they had been going.

"It lead you to me." Geralt reminded with a soft look, round pupils. "My brothers can handle themselves. And if not, they can stay away from you." He shrugged still leading the way. 

"They'll like you. You're strong, you're confident, clever and witty. You're going to be fine."

Jaskier's heart fluttered and he rolled his eyes, biting back his smile. Gods, Geralt was a big dummy... a big loveable-  
No.  
Nono _no_.  
Not love.  
Just... just a big dummy, that's all.

"Oh is that all? Strong, confident, clever and witty? I do believe you may have called me lovely before. Or beautiful? Talented, probably. Oh, and you definitely used the word humble–" he found himself smirking, following idly after Geralt.

"I have NEVER used the word humble when it comes to you." Geralt snorted, shaking his head. "I don't think that word can even apply to you." He turned, walking backwards, looking to Jaskier. 

"But yes, you are lovely, beautiful, talented, did I mention you have a wonderful singing voice?" He praised, watching him playfully. "And my brothers are going to like you, I promise. And as long as you can be respectful, so will Vesemir."

He whined softly, practically pouncing on Geralt, damn near knocking him to the ground. "Stop it! I only said those things because I was teasing! You weren't supposed to actually say them with that stupidly adorable look on your big dumb face!" He huffed, feeling like a child, not having the brain enough when Geralt looked at him that way, or said those soft things, to form more intelligent insults.

"How long will this travel take exactly? I'm not sure I'll survive your mouth for long."

Geralt laughed, Jaskier nearly knocking him off his feet. "Oh it'll just be about a week to get there. Not long at all, you can deal with me that long." He hummed, face turning with a dopey look. 

"You think I'm adorable?" He asked, smirking at him, moving out of the way quickly to avoid getting hit again.

Jaskier growled and swiped at Geralt, toppling over when the big Wolf anticipated and dodged away, side swiping him as he stumbled ahead a few steps.

"I am going to explode before this trip is over if you keep doing things like that! That look on your face, the... the big eyes and that damn smirk!" He huffed, messing his own hair in his agitation, clearly flustered on top of it all.

"Yes! You... oversized Wolf pup, yes! I think you're... adorable. Sometimes! Don't let it go to your head or anything because you're already obnoxious enough!"

Geralt laughed again, nodding and putting on a serious face. "Alright alright. I'll behave." He agreed, putting on a soft pout. 

"You are going to need a hobby to blow off steam. Maybe I've got a new partner for the training grounds!" He smiled again, winking playfully.

His yell echoed through the trees, shaking free what birds were left before the frost of the winter.  
"Can my hobby be punching a likeness of your face over and over and over again until I need a new likeness of your face to take its place?!" He exclaimed, clenching his fists as his sides, squeezing his injured hand and making the bandage soak with his blood.

"I'm not sure how I feel about that, but I'm guessing it might be time for me to shut my mouth." Geralt looked over to Roach, settling her. 

"Want to ride for a bit?" He asked, his voice softer now. He probably had been pushing too far.

"No I'm... I'm fine. Should save her strength anyway," he murmured, settling just as Roach did, but without Geralt's hand on his nose.

"I'm... I'm sorry. I went too far. I don't want to punch your face over and over, just once in a while, once or twice in a row," he murmured, feeling himself gravitate towards Geralt's side, seeking the comfort he provided, despite the annoyance that he could be as well.

"Think I can handle that." Geralt agreed, looking at his feet to avoid upsetting Jaskier any more with his facial expressions. "Long as I'm allowed to get a good blow in, I'll be fine." He smiled slightly, still leading the way. 

"Come on, we should ride while the ground is flat, give her the rest while we're in the mountains. Might cut the travel by two days if we do."

He wanted to apologize more, to fix what he'd done, only... he wasn't good at fixing things, not with violence, not anymore. So, he nodded and stayed quiet for a while, just following Geralt's lead, leaning into him as they rode Roach for a while.

"Are we uhm...are we going to set up camp at some point... or ride through the night?"

"What would you prefer? I'm rested well enough, though I'm sure Roach would appreciate the rest. Might be safer to travel in the day." Geralt weighed his options. 

Camp might be a good idea.

"Let's stop, then. Let her rest and we can rest too," he hummed, leaning up and nuzzling against Geralt's chin, yawning and stretching.  
"You Wolves may be able to just go and go, but I'm not built like you. I need as regular rest as I can manage."

Geralt smiled, nodding, making a mental note to remember that. "Let's stop then." He agreed, listening around for anything that could cause trouble. 

Finding nothing, he stopped, moving around to set up camp. "Are you hungry? Could go catch something for you." He offered, starting their fire for them.

"No love, I'm fine," he hummed, helping to set up camp, as much as Geralt would allow him to help, before he plopped himself down by the fire, his eyes slipping closed.

His heart rate slowed, relaxing him, his breathing calm and even. He hadn't meant his outburst, hadn't meant to make Geralt feel bad.  
Geralt was... _is_ the best thing to ever happen to him. But... but he'd thought that about Gweld, too, just before his whole life was torn to pieces, and he could very well be walking right into another of—

A breath out, his eyelids fluttering with the turmoil he was burying deep, suppressing and not speaking of.

It would offend Geralt, surely, knowing that, while the wild trusted him so entirely, he couldn't even grant him that trust in return. Geralt had never attacked him, had been nothing but kind and sweet and caring, but gods damn it all, Gweld had been that way too. Had been so damn good at _PRETENDING_ , right until his very last breath.

Breath in, another flutter of his eyelids, his fingers clenching slightly before releasing.  
He felt the warmth from the fire, heard the flickering of it licking at the dry wood and leaves. He could smell that they'd definitely picked pine wood.

He opened his eyes and breathed out, letting his mind clear and relax as his heart did.

"I'm sorry I fly off the handle sometimes and I say hurtful things."

Geralt turned to Jaskier, sitting next to him, not laying down, just getting comfortable to meditate for the night. 

"I have thick skin." He smiled, looking him over. "And I know I can be a bit much to handle, I have to remember this is overwhelming for you." He listened to Jaskier's heart slow. 

"I know you still don't trust me, and I'm working on that. I know you might not ever, and I think that's fair."

"But it isn't fair! It's— ...you've done _nothing_ but prove to me that you're not like him, that I _should_ be able to trust you! You're stupid enough to trust me putting a blade to your throat multiple times and threaten your life, and still you trust me to have your back when we're out there. I– I mean..." he felt tears welling in his eyes, his breathing going staggered as he heart stayed as slow as he could force it to be.

"You deserve my trust, and I _want_ to give it to you I'm just... not good at doing that anymore. I closed myself off and I don't know how to break that wall I built," he buried his face in his hands. "It's not fair, because you're not him. You're better than him. It's not fair because it wasn't fair what he did..."

Geralt softened his gaze, looking away from Jaskier, not wanting it to be too much. "Its not fair what he did. And I understand it'll be hard for me to earn your trust because of that." He looked now, knowing he needed to. 

"But you'll be worth all the work. Jaskier, I like you. You've proven to be a good companion in battle, and you're delightfully rude to me. I like your songs and... you make me laugh. I feel like a boy when I'm with you." He tried to stop the smile, tried to stop the way his heart fluttered when he thought of the way Jaskier makes him feel.

"If I can earn, even an inch of your trust, it would be worth the world to me. But if not, your friendship is more than enough."

His tears streamed down his face, even as he buried it into his hands, pressing the balls of his palms into his eyes to try to make it stop.  
He hated it. Hated this fucking _curse_ of feeling too much and too easily but then he couldn't even control where the feelings went.  
He still– fucking still– held a love in his heart for Gweld. For the man he presented as, not the man he showed himself to truly be. He mourned the loss of that person he had fallen in love with, had given himself wholly to.

Hearing Geralt's heart flutter, feeling the warmth from him at his side, he knew. He knew it had always been an act for Gweld. His heart never fluttered, he never felt warm. He never smelled sweet and salty, never smelled like anything but lust and the road and his horse and the monsters they faced. And the people he'd slept with besides Jaskier.

Be damned this heart of his, confused, befuddled and fucked. Be damned this stupid mind of his, so easily overwhelmed and tossed into a too-deep stormy ocean of feelings.

"...I like you too, you big dopey pup. More than I should, but not yet where I want to be. ...but I'm trying. I really am. I really, really am..." he murmured, hugging himself tightly as he turned to look at Geralt, his eyes puffy from crying, his cheeks tear stained and his eyes a shimmering blue in the flicker of the fire light.

Geralt smiled at him, feeling terrible for his suffering. Hating that he felt so much and yet he knew nothing of that kind of pain. 

"That's enough for me, kitten." He hummed, patting the spot next to him. "Now get some rest, I'll keep watch."

Jaskier hesitated a moment before scooting over, flopping onto his side to curl against Geralt's lap.

_I'll be worthy of your fluttering heart someday, sweet pup._

He closed his eyes, resting a hand against Geralt's knee and before he knew it, he had drifted into a light sleep.

Geralt sighed heavily, pushing a hand through Jaskier's hair, listening out for anything. 

He wished he could ease that pain in the man's heart. Wished he could have gone back and stopped Gweld that night. Wished he'd have asked, just to alert them that... no that's stupid. Senseless. 

It didn't matter. He'd try to earn Jaskier's trust, but he'd meant it when he said that this was enough. If this was all he was given, it was enough.

It the light haze of the unconsciousness he slipped into and decided to call sleep, he could feel warm, strong hands through his hair, nails gently scraping along his scalp. He felt them veer off towards his ears, could feel warmth creep down his neck, but always the strong hands gentled him as they ran through his hair.

The rumble in his chest started soft, started slow, but the deeper he drifted into sleep because of the safety those hands made him feel, the louder the rumble in his chest grew.  
Fully in the dark of unconsciousness, unawares of his surroundings in the slightest, Jaskier was also unawares that he was curled against Geralt's lap, purring like a content house cat.

Geralt heard the sound, unsure of the origin, opening his eyes, he realized it was coming from Jaskier. 

Soft at first, growing louder as his petting went on and his heart slowed. It was unlike anything he'd heard before, soft rhythmic, rumbling in Jaskier's chest. He was purring, soft and strong. 

He held his breath, not wanting anything but that sound to fill his ears. It was so calming, even forcing his own body to relax, going back to his meditation, a peace he hadn't known in years. 

He'd never be able to say anything to Jaskier, but he would cherish this moment until the next time he was able to hear this sound.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mildly sexual content~♡

He slept soundly for most of the night, finally stirring and waking just before dawn, stretching himself out and whimpering happily as his joints popped. He rubbed at his eyes before pressing himself against Geralt's leg, nuzzling it.

"Geralt?" He breathed quietly, rubbing at his eye again, sleepily.

Geralt hummed looking down to Jaskier, passing his fingers through his hair again. "Right here, kitten. Sleep well?" He asked, voice quiet.

"Mm," he nodded, bumping his nose to Geralt's leg again before pushing himself up to stretch some more.  
"You didn't sleep at all, did you? Not a wink..." he sighed, nuzzling instead against the hand in his hair, briefly remembering the way that strong hand had helped him to drift deeper into sleep than he had in a while.  
He felt better rested than he had in a while.

"I'm taking watch on the next stop, so you can get rest yourself."

Geralt smiled and shook his head. "I'll be able to get all the rest I need soon enough. I can last on meditation alone for long enough." He reassured, letting his hand linger before pulling away, getting up. 

"Alright. Let's get moving. I'm thinking of a hot bath and my bed. The beds back home are so soft." He bragged a little, not wanting to upset Jaskier again. He'd remember to keep quiet today.

"Thoughts of a hot bath and your bed gonna keep you satiated until we get there?" He asked, picking himself up and brushing himself off as he moved to follow after Geralt, who was already gathering Roach and making a move to leave.

"You said it would take about a week to get there; you can't just meditate for that long instead of sleeping, surely... not even you Wolves are that hardy. ...are you?"

"I had good sleep last night. As long as I don't have to fight anything I'm good for a little over a week." Geralt shrugged, thinking about it. "It's only travel." He reminded, jumping up on to Roach. 

"We can stop at an inn at the half way and rest if you'd like, but I'll be alright."

"You're a pain, and you're going to make me worry, which is fine, totally normal, but fine. We can just go and keep on going. Don't even have to dtop next time – I'll just sleep in your arms on Roach, maybe," he grumbled, walking beside Roach now, as he spoke.

"Only travel, he says. As if we aren't crossing a great distance or anything."

"Get on the horse." Geralt rolled his eyes. "We have to stop for Roach anyway." He smiled at Jaskier, watching him sulk. 

"Its a great distance, but it'll be worth it once we're there, I promise. Now come on up." He stopped, waiting for him.

Jaskier grumbled and scrambled up onto Roach's back, with Geralt's help of course.

They travel the day away and made camp again at night, another night of the Cat sleeping curled up by the fire with his head against Geralt's lap while the wolf meditated.

It became routine, to wake before dawn to begin their travel for the day, and to stop a little after dusk to let Jaskier and Roach get some rest, while Geralt meditated and kept watch.

Their last stop was a little town at the edge of the Blue Mountains, and Jaskier was on edge.  
He'd had this whole travel time to wonder and overthink how this winter was going to go. How being at Kaer Morhen was going to be. He was anxious and nervous and worried and it was eating at him bit by bit, making him tremble and fidget. He could feel another bout of uncontrollable panic tumbling ever closer as he glanced to the mountains while Geralt did a little shopping.

Geralt hummed, loading Roach up with everything he'd bought. "Alright. Into the mountains we go. We're almost there, I promise. Secret short cut." He laughed, patting Roach before covering her up with a blanket, just to keep her a little warm. It wasn't necessary yet, but he wanted her to be comfortable. 

"How you feeling? Doing alright?" He asked Jaskier. The Cat had seemed unusually quiet the past day or so.

_How you feeling._

To any other living being on the fucking Continent with sentience enough to have feelings and also understand them, understand the question, and have the power to answer, the typical generic answer to said question was usually 'I'm fine.'

...but Jaskier wasn't every other being. For him, this question was loaded and was... a lot.

"Like my skin is crawling. My head hurts from the number of times I've gone over every scenario of how things could go wrong. I mean, I could say something to offend Vesemir and he banishes me, banishes us both maybe because you're an idiot and would probably try to stand up for me as you always seem to do when I don't deserve it. The first meeting could miraculously go well, but then I fuck something up with your brothers when they arrive, maybe they've heard of me and heard I killed Gweld. Maybe they already know of me and have decided they hate me and there's no going back from that, Geralt! There's no going back from first impression hatred!"

He kept rambling, going on different tangents of what could go wrong, what probably would go wrong, his voice getting a bit shrill a few times as his panic just grew and grew, finally able to put it to words because Geralt just HAD to ask.

Geralt could see the mania in his eyes, spouting possibilities that he knew weren't going to happen. Though he understood the very real fears Jaskier had. 

"I'm going to Axii you again so you can breathe." He frowned when the Cat started to hyperventilate. He did, drawing the sign with his hand, tilting his head, watching the calm settle behind his eyes.

That calm had settled over him again, quieting the fears in his mind and his voice on his tongue instantly. His blue eyes clouded over a bit as he swayed, taking slow deep breaths, letting his poor heart settle back to a less worrying pace.

He was quiet, just focusing on his breathing, looking to Geralt. He rather enjoyed this, if he could be honest. He liked the way it made him feel... Relaxed, at peace, and completely at the mercy of the Wolf. Normally, that last part would terrify him, but while he was in this gentle haze, he felt nothing could hurt him.

Geralt wrapped a gentle arm around Jaskier, leading him forward. "You're going to be fine. Vesemir is going to like you." He reassured giving him a squeeze. 

"I've even written ahead with a warning. He knows I'm bringing a guest and he will need to be patient. I didn't tell him everything, but you will be allowed to stay." He forced a smile. "My brothers will accept you because I want you there. They don't have to like you, they just have to accept you're there and under my protection."

His protection.  
He had been under Geralt's protection this last week, too, and he hadn't once gotten hurt. In fact, the injury from the splintered table had actually healed up nicely.

There wasn't anything to worry about. With Geralt, he would be safe. He would be okay.

He allowed himself to be led, the haze fading slightly, but the calm stayed for the time being.

"...m'sorry."

"Don't be sorry for anything." Geralt hummed, his hand still at Jaskier's back, leading him forward. 

"It's scary, I understand. Too many variables, but I'll be there too. And I promise you you will be welcomed at Kaer Morhen."

It wasn't fair how understanding and sweet Geralt was, when all Jaskier wanted to do was sit and overthink and scream and possibly throw his dagger at a tree or something. He wasn't built for this kindness, but he was receiving it whether he was built for it or not.

He was quiet as they made their way up the mountain, trying to keep his mind clear so he could be good and make a good first impression to Vesemir.

He froze, though, when he saw the gates for the first time. Chill was hanging in the air, frost covering everything and he swore a gentle snow was drifting, and the sight of the gates to Kaer Morhen made him stop dead, breath catching.

He was here, now.  
No more time for preparing.

Geralt turned, looking to Jaskier, offering his hand out to him. "Come on." He encouraged, waiting for him. Letting him take his time. 

"You can be afraid all you want, but it's for nothing, I promise you."

He sucked in a breath and nodded, taking Geralt's hand in his own, giving it a squeeze as he let the Wolf lead him forward by the hand, past the gates and into the courtyard of Kaer Morhen, the Wolf School of Witchers Keep.

His eyes darted around, his heart thrumming quickly in his chest.

Geralt lead him in, bringing him to the stables and helping unload Roach, getting her settled in. He set her up in a stall, talking to her as he filled it with hay, and getting her set up for the night. 

"Mind grabbing a bag? Well just let Vesemir know we're here and then we can get you a room and a bath."

Jaskier nodded wordlessly, afraid to trust his own voice right now while he could feel himself trembling. He grabbed up his own bags and his lute case, and grabbed a bag of the supplies Geralt's had gotten from town before the trekked the mountain.

He patted Roach gently before following Geralt out of the stables.  
He could smell Gweld here, the faded scent of him that lingered in these walls. He could smell all the others, too, and Geralt's scent stood out sharp against the rest, as well as the patchouli scent of—

Jaskier froze, his eyes falling to the older Witcher waiting for them.

Vesemir smiled, greeting Geralt with open arms, the younger witcher moving to him, giving him a hug after so much time apart. "Vesemir! This is Jaskier, the friend I told you about. He's another Witcher, but since he has nowhere to stay for the winter, I've invited him here." He explained, holding his hand out for Jaskier to come closer. 

"He plays lute! We'll be able to have a little entertainment, more than your terrible stories you fall asleep half way through." He smiled cheekily.

Hesitating a moment, Jaskier stepped forward and took Geralt's hand again, needing the strength that it provided for him.  
He bowed his head a little to the older Witcher, his heart pounding.

"I- uhm... thank you, for allowing me safe harbor from the winter, where I would normally have no such thing," he said, going a bit formal in his speech.  
"In return for ah... not immediately sensing me on my way, I'd be happy to play for you, and the others. Anytime you like."

Vesemir smiled at him as well. "You were right, he is pretty." He playfully whispered over to Geralt. "Little small for a Witcher though." He looked him over, knowingly.

"A Cat has a place to stay, and any friend of Geralt's has a home here." He leaned forward, a warm look on his face. "Welcome to Kaer Morhen. Please make yourself comfortable."

Jaskier swallowed heavily under that look, fidgeting a little and giving Geralt's hand a good squeeze.

 _Home._  
Geralt had said it, had offered it, but somehow it was different now because Vesemir was offering it, too.  
A home.

"Thank you, very much," he replied a bit shyly before elbowing Geralt.  
"What exactly did you put in this letter of yours, mutt? Calling me pretty?" He asked in a hushed tone, knowing Vesemir would hear him anyway.

Geralt looked at him with wide eyes. "I didn't say that!" He defended, looking between Jaskier and Vesemir. 

"He wrote many nice things about you. I was eager to meet you. Been a while since Geralt's brought a guest, especially one he seemed so excited about." Vesemir hummed, looking him over. He stood tall, stoic, but there was a playful glint to his eyes. "Alright then, little Cat, have Geralt take your things and show you around. Don't let him drink too much wine just yet, it needs to last us the winter."

He felt his cheeks warm under the older man's watchful, knowing gaze and he nodded, turning to smile at Geralt.

"Well go on pup, show me around your home like you've been talking about for days," he hummed, giving the larger Witcher's hand a squeeze.

He liked Vesemir. He had expected something completely different from the man, but he was kind and wily, it seemed. Sharp, too.  
Beyond the initial hit of patchouli, he smelled of parchment and ink, of pipe smoke, of pine fire wood and dust. The whole of the Keep smelled of him in some small way and it was... sort of nice, actually.

"I'll do my best to keep him in line while I'm here," he added, glancing to Vesemir with a playful grin of his own, laughing when Geralt tugged his hand to lead him away.

"Well shit... I didn't expect him to like you more than he likes me." Geralt huffed playfully, leading him down to the rooms to set their things down.

"You want to change out of your armor?" He offered, taking his own off, setting his swords to the side. "We can find you a room real quick. Most have them have been cleaned out, so there's a few. They all have the bed and storage."

He couldn't help but watch as Geralt slipped free of his armor. He really was... beautiful, actually. He could hear his own heart thumping, and he forced himself to look away, scanning thr room.  
It smelled so much like Geralt here, like cedar, iron and leather, among other scents Jaskier couldn't focus on, couldn't name, not while–

"Oh uhm...I can change in a bit, when we've picked out a room for me. Is there one near yours that's open?" He asked hopefully, still reeling at the warm welcome. It hadn't been amongst his scenarios, and he was... really happy for that, actually.

"The whole hall really." Geralt sighed, pulling his shirt loose so it wasn't tucked in anymore. "Let's pick you one so you can set your stuff down." He offered, leading the way back to the hall. "Want one with a window? Or you can have an inner room if you feel safer."

"Ah... perhaps the window might be good," he murmured, following Geralt, taking in the hall curiously, feeling the chill that clung to the old walls.

A window would be a good escape route if he needed a quick getaway. He wasn't beyond thinking like that, and maybe he should feel bad about that, but currently he was still just incredibly distracted by Geralt.

Geralt nodded, smiling happily at Jaskier. He almost couldn't believe he was here. It went smoothly with Vesemir, the old man probably knew of his crush, the bastard. But at least Jaskier seemed more comfortable. 

"How's this one?" He asked, opening the door. It was a room with a window and a balcony, much like his own, facing the courtyard training grounds. Didn't belong to anyone Jaskier would know and was far enough away to grant him some privacy.

He stepped into the room and looked around curiously before setting his things down and flopping himself into the bed. Gods, Geralt had been right– the beds were wonderfully soft and he didn't dare close his eyes, else he might sleep right here and now.

"This one is mine, then," he grinned, pushing himself up to sitting st the edge of the bed. "It's perfect, thank you pup," he paused, lips curling. "So, what's this about you writing many nice things about me? How could you lie to poor Vesemir like that?"

Geralt looked at him in shock, eyes wide, mouth dropping open. "I would never lie to Vesemir! I only put what I thought of you in my letter." He huffed, crossing his arms. 

He was smiling, glad to see how comfortable Jaskier looked. "And he looked at you like that, he likes you. Dirty old man." He shook his head, only joking.

"Oh leave him be, sweet thing. I haven't eyes for him in return," he murmured, pushing himself up from the bed, crossing over to get up on his tip toes and pat Geralt's head.  
The man was simply looking to him because he knew a secret that Geralt did not yet know.  
"There, there, you big fool. No need to pout," he hummed, stepping away slightly to smile up at the pup.

Geralt liked this softer side of Jaskier. He enjoyed the attention as well. Maybe a good pout was all he needed now and then. 

"I can leave you be a minute, continue the tour. Unless you'd like to take a nap?" He offered, knowing Jaskier needed more rest than he did. Though he'd sleep like the dead tonight.

"No no, I just need a minute so I can change into something perhaps a bit more comfortable than my armor and then we can continue," he smiled, gesturing with his hand for Geralt to either turn around, not peek, or leave the room.

When the man decided which to do, Jaskier moved to one of his bags and pulled a clean pair of breeches out, along with a white frilled chemise and a gold and silver doublet.  
He stripped out of his current attire, readjusted his bindings, and then slipped into his clean clothes, leaving the doublet open at the top.

"Alright pup, I'm decent now. Shall we carry on?"

Geralt hummed, standing where had been leaning in the hall. "What first, kitten? Want to go see the kitchens? The libraries? Baths?"

"That's a lot of fucking choice, mutt," he huffed, gently nudging Geralt with his foot. "What's the closest that will leave the baths as last, since you and I could both use a bath after our long travels."

"Libraries are the closest. Now that the elders aren't returning I have my eyes on one of the nicer rooms above the library." Geralt smiled, looking to Jaskier. "Do you like to read?"

"I do, actually. I've stolen my fair share of books in my time. Given most of them back, or took them back home, when I uh... _had_ a home, that is," he sighed, waving a hand lazily in the air, trying not to dwell on the pang of anguish that wanted to eat away at his heart, mentioning his dearly departed School.

"Don't get me wrong, it was a shithole, compared to some places I've stayed, but it was my shithole," he laughed, feeling tears biting at the corners of his eyes. He scuffed his boots along the stone floor, wiping at his eyes.

Geralt smiled and nodded. "I understand. This can be your shithole now." He offered, leading the way, showing off a little. 

"Vesemir spends a lot of his time here, but he sleeps a lot too. Just be quiet and you won't bother him any."

"A Wolf that sleeps a lot? My my, what is the world coming to?" Jaskier teased lightly, bumping against Geralt, just enjoying the solidness of him every once in a while, a reassurance that this was real.

"Anyway, I'd never come here without you. I— ...this isn't home. Not yet, anyway. Maybe it could be, maybe I'll let it be, but... I can't, yet. You know?"

"I know." Geralt smiled, bumping him back. "But I can hope." He sighed, leading the way out again. 

"Come on. I'll show you the kitchens. Get something to eat. Might be time to get dinner for Vesemir." He hummed, leading the way. He wasn't sure what was different, but he felt like Jaskier was different. Nervous maybe? 

"I... do you want to talk about your home?"

"It was nothing like yours is," he chuckled softly. "For one, there were far more trees, but they weren't nearly as tall as your trees are," he smiled, following closely behind Geralt, sighing softly as he thought about his home. His brothers. His sisters.  
How he missed his room.

"We had a lot more color in our halls, in my room in particular," he hummed happily, a sort of nostalgia to his voice. "I miss my brothers and my sisters. They accepted me despite... my flaws," he murmured absently, reaching absently to grab Geralt's hand, holding it and giving it a squeeze.

"I don't know if any of them got out, like I did... I don't know who survived and who stayed buried there in the rubble of our School, our home."

Geralt frowned, looking down at the floor, quietly ashamed of his brothers. "We could go back in the spring. Perform burial rites if you'd like." He offered, looking over to him. 

"I wasn't even here during the attack of Kaer Morhen, but I came back to it. The aftermath... I imagine what they did to you and I..." he took a breath, not sure what to say. 

"All I can say is I'm sorry. And even that sounds hollow, but I am. And if there was any way I could have helped... could have known." He hesitated, squeezing Jaskier's hand back. "We can keep an eye out for your brothers. I know many sorceresses, perhaps they can let us know if there's any Cats entering their kingdoms? Least I can do." He offered, looking to him hopefully. 

He'd given up hope on many of his brothers, he didn't want Jaskier to.

"...I'm not sure I want to know," he murmured, looking down at the ground as they moved through the halls of the keep, making their way to the kitchens - he could smell them, warm and inviting and smelling of home cooked meals and the love that went into them.

"...but going back to perform burial rites might be good. Are you sure you'd want to? Go there, with me, I mean..." he worried at the inside of his cheek, suddenly feeling like he wasn't getting enough air.

_He could smell the dust and ash, could feel it in his lungs as the rubble of his room crushed him beneath it. He could feel his bones broken, his blood pooling around him as he held his breath so the ones looking would think him dead. He willed his heart to slow to next to nothing and stayed as still as he could, despite the pain._

_He didn't know how long he'd stayed that way, praying to whatever gods would listen to a stray Cat for guidance and help. He prayed the Wolves would leave, and eventually... eventually they had. Eventually he was alone and he was able to dig himself free, scrambling for air, for his life, pushing through all the pain in his body because he wasn't going to die there. He had to find Gweld, had to—_

In present time, in the halls of Kaer Morhen, Jaskier had slipped to the ground, struggling for air, his pupils so narrow it was almost like there was no black at all in an endless blue. His heart was pounding quickly and his claws were digging into his own arms, drawing blood from scars reopened.

Geralt was on the floor with him, shouting Jaskier's name, holding his shoulders, shaking him lightly. His hands moved to gently cup his face, begging him to come back, running hands frantically across his cheeks and neck. 

When he did, when his eyes finally started seeing the actual world around him, Geralt pulled his hands away from his arms carefully. "Shh... you're safe. I'm here, you're alright." He was knelt in front of him, his own heart pounding. 

He knew that he could keep Jaskier safe from outside threats, but he'd never be able to protect him from what went on in his head.

Coming back to, his breathing easing a bit, Jaskier's pupils rounded out and his eyes welled with tears.

"S-Sorry," he whimpered, feeling his shoulders tremble with the tears that wanted to be shed. He felt like an idiot – how could he let himself fall apart like that? Delve so deep into that dark place, those very bad memories that he got dragged back to that moment?

Honestly, what sort of impression must this be leaving on his poor pup, and were his brothers, or Vesemir to hear or see this little fucking break down of his? Surely they'd send him packing. Unstable fucking piece of shit Cat...

"Sorry, I'm fine," he forced a smile, reaching out to cup Geralt's cheek, realizing too late he had blood on his fingers, that was now smudged onto Geralt's cheek. "Ah... sorry, about that, too," he laughed, but the sound was forced and sheepish.

Not even the first night of staying here at Kaer Morhen and already he had fucked things up royally. Surely his pup would hate him, now. Not that he would blame the poor thing...

"You're not fine..." Geralt leaned into the touch, missing the contact when he'd pulled away. "Jaskier..." he whispered, standing carefully, pulling him up with him.

"Let's get you cleaned up. Do you like tea? We can have a cup while I cook. Might help get you relaxed." He suggested, leading him over to the counters, sitting him down on a stool to clean him up. 

"Your tailor's fees must be ridiculous. You know how to sew?" He asked, a little warmth to his eyes as he stepped away. After a few minutes he brought over a wash cloth he dipped into a pot of boiling water, wiping away the blood on his arms.

"Tea's good, yeah," he murmured, finding himself wishing the big oaf couldn't see through his lies so easily, while also being grateful that he could, and was doing what he could to help make his words _not_ a lie.

"Course I know how to sew – you don't have these sorts of break down attacks and not learn how to clean up and fix up after yourself," he sighed, watching Geralt so gingerly and carefully clean him up, care for him. He winced only a few times, the cloth so hot against his cool skin.

"...well, actually, one of my sisters taught me how to sew. I taught her the basics of playing the lute, and in return she taught me what I needed to know so I could sew my own clothes and repair them when they needed it," he amended, figuring it wrong to lie to the Wolf while he was helping him like he was.

Geralt smiled, getting together the leaves for the tea. He poured them each a cup, a scent of spice filling the room, dipping honey into both before bringing the cup over to him. 

"A sister? I forgot Cats trained women." He hummed, turning back and starting what they needed for a soup. The three of them would sit and eat tonight, then he'd show him to the baths.

"I've mentioned sisters a few times, you big oaf," he chuckled lightly, shaking his head, taking the cup into his hands and just holding it for the warmth for a moment before blowing on it and taking a sip. He hummed, letting his eyes close as he enjoyed the warmth and sweet spice of it flood him.

"I think we were the only School to train women, actually... they blamed the fuck up in our mutations on that, you know... that having women in the mix made the whole emotional shit go haywire, but that's a bullshit cover for them having fucked up their formula somewhere along the lines," he rolled his eyes, easing back into a comfortable banter, his breathing even, his heart rate normal.

"So, pup, are you always the cook, or do your brothers cook too?"

"We take turns." Geralt smiled, looking up to Jaskier. "Eskel's the best, but Vesemir makes these dumplings that you'll want to eat until you explode." He laughed, rubbing his tummy. 

"He makes so many, we used to fight over them though, said we'd deserve it when we got sick. But he'd always come in to our room with tea and mint. Now he just makes it with the dinner because he hasn't changed the recipe though he's only feeding four of us. Five now."

"And when do I get to try these magic dumplings, hm? Not tonight, obviously, because tonight is your night to cook," he smiled, resting his chin in his palm, wincing a little as it pulled on his still sore wounds.

"Think maybe I can try my hand at cooking for you wolves one night? Anyone have any food allergies I should be aware of?" He laughed, recalling one of his sisters being lactose intolerant, and one of his brothers had trouble digesting pork products.  
Cooking back home at the Stygga Citadel had been a pain in the ass at times with so many conflicting restrictions and also more than a few that were just picky eaters.  
Wolves made his brothers and sisters sound so spoiled and delicate.

"Lambert has the constitution of a wet envelope sometimes, but he'll eat everything. He's a big baby once he gets a stomach ache though." Geralt laughed, putting everything into the pot, sitting down with Jaskier. 

"He's a huge brat, but he _is_ the baby, so what are you going to do?" He smiled to him, sipping his tea.

Jaskier smiled, his eyes bright as he looked to Geralt around his tea cup, drinking from the hot liquid.  
"Lambert's the baby, huh? And what of you and this Eskel?" He asked, finally setting his cup back down, tilting his head as he looked at his pup expectantly.

Obviously it was 'learn about Geralt's brothers' time.

"I think I was the baby of my generation of Cats... at the very least, I was among the last of those that made it through the trials."

"I'm the oldest. Though, you'd think it was Eskel." Geralt laughed, looking into his cup. "Don't tell him I said this, but I think he's a better Witcher too." He smiled, looking Jaskier over. 

"They're going to love you, you know." He sighed, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

"Thought for sure Vesemir was the oldest," he teased, nudging Geralt under the table with his foot, smiling across at the pup, confused a little by the strange soft look he was giving him.

"If you say so, love," he hummed, reaching across to brush his fingers against Geralt's hand, sipping his tea with his other hand. "Why are you so sure, though? That they'll 'love' me."

Geralt looked to their hands, feeling his heart skip a little. "Because I—" 

He had to cut himself off. He couldn't say that. _'Because I do.'_

Jaskier was sure to run off if he said some shit like that. Even if it was true.

"I just know they will." He blinked, forcing a smile.

The Cat's eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at Geralt, feeling as though he may very well be holding something back but...he was allowed his secrets, because Jaskier had his own that he also was not ready to share.

"Well, if you say so, I suppose it must be true then, pup," he hummed, casually wondering, as he drank his tea, if the other Wolves would poke fun at Geralt for the nicknames.

Geralt smiled, _really_ enjoying this softer side of Jaskier. He knew once his brothers showed up, the Cat would soon turn, teaming up with them to poke their fun. He'd put up with it, might even enjoy the abuse a little. 

"How long do you think it'll take Vesemir to smell that? I give it 10 minutes before he's in here seeing what we're eating."

"I can't say I have a judgement, seeing as I don't know him well enough, and I don't know this place well enough to know how smells travel," he grinned, letting his legs swing a little from the chair.

"Not like you were planning on eating without him, anyway. You're too well trained and too much of a good boy to really fool me, my pretty pup," he hummed, winking playfully.

Vesemir of course took that moment to peer into the kitchen.

Geralt jumped, the older witcher having snuck up on him, distracted as he was by Jaskier. 

He put on a bashful face, a little embarrassed as he was, quickly getting up, greeting him and getting the food served out for everyone. 

Vesemir smiled at the two of them, sitting himself down next to Jaskier. "How goes everything, little one?" He asked, watching Geralt move around, never having seen him so flustered. "Is our pretty little pup taking good care of you? Showing you where everything is?"

Jaskier found his own cheeks warming from Vesemir's words and attention, but he was far more calm about it than Geralt, surprisingly.

"He found me a room, which I am grateful for still, by the way," he pulled his gaze from Geralt to look to Vesemir. "I appreciate your hospitality, especially being...well, myself, and not one of your pups," he swallowed heavily, quickly turning his attentions back to Geralt finishing the soup and portioning it into bowls for the three of them.

"But yes...this sweet pup is taking excellent care of me, and showing me around. He plans to show me to the baths after supper."

Vesemir hummed looking Geralt over, taking the bowl from him. "He needs one." He commented playfully. "Geralt gives a good massage, but I'm who he learned from. Plenty of oils for the baths and your skin." Here offered, trying to work his boy up.

Geralt served them first before sitting himself down. "Be nice to Jaskier. He doesn't want your paws all over him."

The Cat's eyes lit up, his pupils slightly more rounded than slits as he smiled between the two wolves.

"Well, if you say Geralt gives good massages and _you're_ the one that taught him, I may enjoy your paws all over my shoulders, at the very least," he hummed, turning to look at Vesemir, keeping a side eye on Geralt to see how he might react to being teased by both of his current companions.

Geralt blinked, putting on a bit of a face. He huffed, going back to his dinner as he listened to his elder flirt with his friend. 

"You see, you can't be rough, Geralt's still young, rushes everything. You have to take your time, all good things take time. You should come see me after your bath, I'll see to those shoulders." Vesemir smiled, watching Geralt's annoyance grow. He was such a pout when he wanted to be. He meant nothing by his light chat, only enjoying the sight of his brows pulled tight together, the huff waiting to air itself in his chest.

Jaskier smiled and nodded, turning his attention back to the table, to his soup. He hummed, closing his eyes happily as the warmth of it filled him in a way the tea hadn't. It was hearty and filling, where the tea had been soothing and sweet.

"You are rather a good cook, aren't you my dear?" He hummed, looking across to Geralt with those rounded off pupils of his, nudging his leg under the table in hopes of showing the other man that he was merely teasing with Vesemir.

He didn't trust the older Witcher any more or less than he trusted Geralt, he just... had always been taught a certain level of respect for his elders and for his hosts.  
...plus, Vesemir knew something about him that Geralt hadn't quite figured out yet, and he hadn't willingly revealed yet.

Geralt looked up at Jaskier, a soft smile on his face, nudging his foot under the table. "You say that, but you haven't had my brothers cooking yet." 

He hummed, looking back down. "I'll show you to the baths once you're done."

"Still better than any food I've had in a while. And I had those potatoes from that tavern we met at, if you recall. Those were heavenly, and I can still say with confidence that this is better," he smiled before lifting the bowl to his lips and drinking the last dregs of his soup down, setting his bowl down when he was finished.

"Thank you for the meal, sweet pup. After that, and a bath? I think I might actually sleep well tonight, for once during the coming cold," he chuckled lightly.

He would go to see Vesemir after his bath – could probably track him down via smell, even though the whole of Kaer Morhen smelled faintly of him everywhere.

"Thank you, Jaskier." Geralt smiled, finishing his too. "I'll do dishes in the morning." He hummed, getting himself up. "To the baths then, kitten?" He asked, looking back to the other man. "Good night, Vesemir." He hummed, bowing his head. 

"Don't forget my offer." Vesemir called after them, a cheeky smile on his face.

Jaskier glanced back at Vesemir with a grin as he nodded, taking Geralt's hand to be led towards the baths.

"Was the teasing too much for you, love?" He asked curiously, taking the man's hand once they were a bit of a ways away from the kitchen, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Vesemir is very nice. Handsome, too, like you."

Geralt frowned at the sound of Jaskier calling Vesemir handsome, feeling a little jealous, though he was included in that. He was also being called 'love' so he was recovering quickly. 

"You enjoyed your dinner?" He asked, hopefully, holding on to Jaskier's hand, leading the way to the baths. "I'll let you bathe first. I know you want your privacy." He offered, pulling his hand up to his face, nose against his wrist.

The soft gesture made Jaskier shiver slightly, paired with the kindness of remembering that the Cat preferred his privacy when it came to changing and/or bathing.

"I did enjoy dinner, yes. I'm assuming any dinner after tonight, once your brothers all arrive, won't be quite as peaceful as this one was?" He asked, biting the inside of his cheek. "Besides the wonderful food, I also rather enjoyed seeing you get a a bit flustered and pouty, my poor sweet pup."

"I was not!" Geralt huffed, feeling that heat creep up the back of his neck again. 

He brought Jaskier to the shared baths, just to show off before showing him the private ones. "You can have your bath in here. There others are more for soaking your aches away. We like to keep those clean." Here explained, helping get Jaskier a tub ready.

"If you'd like, you can head back to your room once you're done, or wait. I'm going to enjoy my peace for a little." He chuckled quietly, also giving Jaskier the opportunity for privacy or to do as he pleased.

"Thank you, dearheart. Enjoy your soak, I'm sure your poor muscles will," he hummed, pulling Geralt closer to him so he could nuzzle his nose against the other Witcher's chin.  
"Perhaps you'll actually get sleep tonight, then," he added, caressing his cheek a moment before slipping into the private bath area, shutting himself away so he could strip and bathe.

Vesemir had been right about there being plenty of salts and oils for him to use, here, and he did, happy to no longer smell of the ground he had been sleeping on the past several days with Geralt.

Once he was suitably clean, he pulled his clothes back on, not bothering to bind his chest for the moment as he left the baths in search of Vesemir's rooms.

It took a little while, the strong scent of the man lingering in quite a few places around the keep, but the strongest trail of his seemed to be between the library and the room he was now standing outside of.  
He sucked in a breath, knocking carefully on the door.

Vesemir looked up from his books at the door. "Please, come in, little one." He called, putting his work aside, looking him over. "To what do I owe this lovely visit? Come, have a seat." He invited him over to a comfortably furnished area of the room, chairs and a couch.

Jaskier swallowed heavily, standing in the doorway a moment.

"Before I sit I... have something I have to tell you. Something I have to confess," he murmured, _'before I get too comfortable here'_ he doesn't say.

"You're here for business then, not pleasure." Vesemir teased lightly, still gesturing him inside. 

"I'm sure whatever you have to say, you can say sitting down." He moved, sitting on the chair, inviting Jaskier to do the same. It was an act of trust, even the playing ground.

"If the business goes over well enough, I had rather hoped that I could take you up on the offered pleasure," he replied, chewing at his cheek, hesitating there at the doorway before moving to the offered seat in the chair.

"I... traveled for a long time with one of your Wolves. ...I traveled with Gweld, for a couple years."

Vesemir forced a sad smile, an understanding nod. "Yes, Gweld was one of Geralt's friends. Not one of the boys I trained, but I do remember him." He looked to Jaskier, not quite sure where this was going. 

"As I recall, he was also one of the Wolves who lead the attack on the Cat stronghold."

"Ah...yes. He was, as I found out after barely surviving said attack myself," he replied, tensing up a bit at the memory.

"I gave all of myself to Gweld, told him everything, shared my bed with him, and he turned around and used all of that information against me to attack my home and absolutely destroy it and my brothers and sisters," he sucked in a breath, clawing at his own thighs.

"I thought he died in the attack as well because he never found me afterwards and I couldn't find him at first," he licked his lips. "...but I did find him. And he laid me down feigning that he was so thrilled I was still alive, that I found him... but then he couldn't even remember my name. Who I was. ...and so I killed him. I killed one of your Wolves."

Vesemir sat quietly, thinking about this, not wanting to say the wrong thing. 

"He killed many of your Cats, as I'm sure. He made his choice and sealed his fate." He finally answered, looking up to Jaskier. "Let's keep it at one and you will be allowed to stay. I have three of my boys left. All three trained by me. They made a choice, as did Gweld, though I would hardly call him a Wolf anymore."

Jaskier choked back a sob, covering his mouth with one of his hands, the other still digging claws into his thigh.

"...thank you," he breathed softly. "I'm so sorry that I did it, but thank you for... making me feel better about it," he sighed, tears slipping down his cheeks. "I still love him, stupidly, but I... I want to stop loving him, and Geralt is helping me, bit by bit, probably without realizing it..."

Vesemir breathed a laugh, looking down to his hands. "Geralt's biggest weakness is his heart. He's only ever wanted to help people." He looked up at him again, tears rolling down the poor boy's cheeks. 

"He's got a big heart. So capable and full of love. It's what makes him a good Witcher. He tries to see the best in people... and sometimes he's right about his judgement." He leaned forward, resting a hand on Jaskier's wrist. "If he thinks you a good man, you're a good man."

He smiled sadly, relaxing a bit, the elder Witcher giving off such a soothing air that he couldn't possibly feel overwhelmed now.

"You're a good man, too. And seeing as you trained Geralt, that may factor in why he's such a good man, too," he breathed, a smile lighting his lips as he wiped at his eyes.

"Also, I mean... you know. You know about me."

"I don't see what that has to do with anything. A great man, and good Witcher, doesn't matter what's between your legs." Vesemir said simply, sitting back in his chair. "It changes nothing." He tilted his head, looking Jaskier over.

"Geralt doesn't know?" He asked curiously.

"He– no," Jaskier sighed, running a hand through his freshly cleaned hair, still curly from being damp. "I haven't told him, anyway," he murmured, swallowing heavily. "I- I don't even know _why_ I haven't told him. I mean it's so stupid, it's just who I am, what I am. If for some reason it changes how he feels about me – which, I doubt it will – then that would be my answer about how things go, right? ...but I just haven't... told him. I haven't let him see me without my clothes, or even without my binding under my clothes. He even offered me a massage, and I... turned it down because I wasn't willing to let him see me. Yet, you offered, and I came," he huffed a breath through his nose.  
"Yes, partially I also came so I could get it off my chest that I killed one of your Wolves and just let you know about it, out of respect."

"Geralt won't care. And if he does, he's not the man I thought he was, but I doubt it." Vesemir leaned forward again. "Because it really doesn't matter." He reassured, patting his arm again. 

"Don't worry yourself over it." He stood, moving to the couch with Jaskier. "And don't worry about what happened in the past. There aren't enough of us left to be able to have those luxuries. We need to look out for each other." He sighed heavily, thinking about the possibility of loosing one of his boys. 

"You're here for that massage then?" He teased after a moment, breaking the melancholy in the room.

A small smile touched his lips as he dwelled on the man's words. Vesemir reminded him so much of Dragonfly, in ways. She had always been there for him when he had needed her most. She was a strong and capable woman and a damn good Witcher, in his opinion.

"Well, I was told that you have something like magical hands, or whatnot. That your massages are very good? How could I turn down the opportunity?"

It had been so long since he had been touched by a man, but... something primal in his being _trusted_ the kindness he had been shown thus far by the elder Witcher.

"Mmm. And I will have to brag about having my hands on such a pretty young thing." Vesemir laughed, rolling his sleeves up. 

"Care to remove your shirt? Or at least to your shoulders." He offered, moving to the bed area to grab his oil. 

"Did you have other questions for me?"

"I'm sure if you brag about having your hands on me, Geralt may very well implode – he looked so pouty and flustered at dinner, and when I mentioned it on the way to the baths, he got all red," Jaskier chuckled as he slipped his chemise up and over his head, holding it in his lap.

As with any good Witcher, he had a myriad of scars across his body, but the focus of them were the scars on his forearms, the spattering of scars along his right side and the awful raised things on his back.

"How long has Geralt been under your tutelage?"

"I believe he was seven when his mother handed him over. Could have been younger, he was so small." Vesemir smiled, pouring the oil into his hands. "He went straight into my care." He smiled, thinking of that poor, teary boy. He'd loved his mother so much, but it was so difficult to see her go. 

"How old were you when you started?"

"I was 13," he murmured, averting his gaze a little. "My father uhm... well, he tried a few other methods of getting me to change my mind about identifying as a boy, before giving up and sending me off to become a Witcher and/or die trying," he huffed a bitter laugh, shaking his head.

"Jokes on him though, because not only did I not die through the trials, I became a Witcher and I tracked him down and killed him for all he had done. After introducing myself and thanking him, of course," this time, his smile was genuine, albeit a little dark, as his pupils narrowed at the memory of that day.

"Was it... difficult? Training Geralt under the guidelines of a Wolf?"

"I'm sorry to hear about all that. As an elder and a Wolf I shouldn't condone that kind of behavior. But as a man who has seen the horrors of humanity and sees himself as a father figure, I'm glad your father got what was coming to him." He said bitterly, rubbing a tight spot at Jaskier's neck. 

"And training Geralt? Oh no. Once he got over his crying and realized he wasn't going back, he took to it naturally. So well they made him go through the trials twice, despite my protests." He explained, a little proud now that his boy had lived through it. "His heart gets in the way, that boy is flood with emotions he doesn't know how to understand, and despite the extra mutations, I think he kept his humanity better than others."

The strong, sure hands at the tightness in his neck brought a soft whimper past Jaskier's lips, squirming a little under the man's care.

"I'm not allowed in Lettenhove anymore, because of what I did, but, well... I'd say it was worth it," he sighed, letting his eyes slip closed.

"Why did they have him go through twice, poor pup. As if going through all that pain and trouble once isn't bad enough...." he shook his head, wincing a little.

"Lettenhove isnt all that nice anyway." Vesemir breathed a laugh, moving to work his shoulders. 

"He did so well during the first trials, they wanted to see what would happen if he went twice." He took a shaky breath. "The poor thing slept for nearly a week after. He's been a skittish sleeper since. Prefers to meditate until he works himself to exhaustion."

Jaskier furrowed his brows, gasping softly at each press of deft fingers into the tight spots of his shoulders. His tongue darted out to lick at his lips, his fingers kneading at his thighs.

"He didn't sleep the entire week we traveled to get here... I thought he was just being a big self-sacrificing idiot but... I didn't even think that maybe sleep was difficult for him, too," he murmured quietly, staring down at the floor.

"He is an idiot, you know. I've threatened his life several times, putting a blade to his throat– that's even how we met– and yet still he always protects me, trusts me to have his back when we have taken contracts together..."

"And is his trust misplaced?" Vesemir asked, stopping a moment. "He is an idiot. He's got little to no self preservation and will do just about everything to complete a job to protect everyone. Especially those he loves." He shook his head, working his hands again until all the tension was worked out.

The sounds passing from Jaskier's lips could certainly be classified as pleasured, but he held as much back as he could, letting the older man release all the tension he had been unknowingly holding in.

"...I want to say I would never intentionally hurt Geralt, but I can't... say that with certainty. The mutations I underwent are far separate to the ones you go through here. Every single emotion I feel is somehow amplified, and sometimes overwhelming. He has had to Axii me before, to being me to a state of calm when I couldn't reach it on my own merit," he swallowed heavily, closing his eyes, a part of him just listening for Geralt, in the quiet of the keep.

"...I'm afraid someday he will be in the wrong place at the wrong time or we will somehow end up at the end of each other's swords... I want to trust him, and maybe even love him, but how can I when I'm so terrified that I could tear him apart?"

"You have to let him make that choice." Vesemir sighed heavily, just letting his hands rest on Jaskier's shoulders a moment. "He would let you pick him apart piece by piece if he loves you deeply enough." He looked down, knowing the kind of idiot Geralt was, also knowing how deeply the man felt despite his mutations. 

"But he isn't stupid. And he's certainly strong enough that he could stop you if he wanted to. He may play the dumb puppy act but he is a Wolf."

"And he may happily call me 'kitten', but I'm a full grown Cat, and my claws are always sharp enough to kill," he replied, but he knew Vesemir was right.

If Geralt wanted to stop Jaskier from hurting him, killing him, he could easily use their size difference to his advantage, but he had always, even from the very first meeting, just laid there and took what Jaskier had to give.

"...he's already made that choice. He said, that if I did end up killing him, he wanted me to at least look him in the eye when I did. He's already decided to come to terms with that i might very well someday kill him and I– _THAT_ terrifies me even more!"

Vesemir shook his head, sighing heavily. "Its not that. I told them all that before. When your school attacked Kaer Morhen it was self defense for my Wolves to fight back." He sighed looking down, not wanting to bring it up. 

"I told the remaining boys at the time that if they ever had to kill a Witcher, they had better give them the dignity of looking them in the eyes before killing them. They owed them at least that." He shook his head, moving his hands along Jaskier's back again. "He's... not accepting that you'll kill him, he's hoping that you'll at least honor him if you do."

The sudden movement of warm hands again, against his back made him shiver, biting his lip again as he digested what the elder was saying.

Geralt hadn't said that, then, because he thought Jaskier _would_ kill him, he said it because if he did, he wanted the proper honor and dignity of Jaskier seeing him, and Geralt seeing him right back.

...so he really didn't fear that Jaskier might kill him.

He smiled softly, letting out a shaky breath of relief. "It's somewhat recent, but I've been taking up meditation of my own to attempt to control the overwhelming emotions that flood me. It's... not going super great, but it's a work in progress," he paused, before continuing. "I'll never tell him, surely, but I'm doing it for him."

Vesemir hummed, knowing that Geralt had made a good choice, bringing the Cat here. His big heart and all. "We can teach you to properly meditate. It's a lear ed behavior, I promise. You won't be able to replace sleep, but it can be relaxing." He hummed, relaxing himself, taking in the scent of the man in front of him. 

He seemed to be rather enjoying the massage, smelled delightfully of the oil and... 

"Would you like me to stop?" He asked, moving his thumbs back up to his neck.

His breath caught slightly as those skilled, slightly calloused thumbs paused at his neck, a soft little whine leaving him as he squirmed slightly.

"Evidently, I require a bit more sleep than you Wolves do. Probably something to do with overwhelming emotions being so godsdamned exhausting and taking such a toll on the body as well as the mind? But what do I know," he murmured, clenching his jaw.

"I... do you want to stop? You could, I mean, whatever muscles you ease will surely only tense again."

Vesemir hummed, working his hands lower along Jaskier's back. "Oh, I'd love to keep going, but would you be able to look me in the eyes come morning?" He teased lightly. "I'm a little old for your attentions."

Jaskier's lips parted, his breath catching again, his heart fluttering.  
"Age, for sorts like us, is no matter at all," he breathed, his toes curling as he felt his breaths coming a bit more quickly and heavily than usual.

"Come morning, I will still look you in the eye, so please, do keep going if it's a shared wish," he added, voice trembling slightly.

Vesemir breathed a laugh, letting himself keep working at Jaskier's back. "Please, if I could have someone lovely as you... Geralt is very lucky. I hope you treat him well." He kept going, not wanting to deny the younger Witcher, would be willing to give do much more. 

He wouldn't do that to his boy, this was innocent enough.

"Were I not doing my– ohh..." he shivered, squirming a little as a different sort of tension built up in his abdomen, "—were I not doing my best to be... worthy of Geralt, I would be more than pleased to have you, darling. You underestimate yourself," he replied honestly, his voice no more than a whimper at times as Vesemir worked at him.

"Flattery gets you everywhere, little one." Vesemir laughed, enjoying the scent rolling off Jaskier. It had been years since he'd smelled anything so sweet. He wondered if a Cat was all it would take to bring life back into their home. 

Maybe Geralt could still love in a romantic context. Maybe the over abundant emotion of a Cat like Jaskier would be a good thing for the emotionally repressed Wolf. Maybe joy could fill these halls again at the hands of a Cat no less.

He could feel that tension in him starting to tremble, to shake, he was so close to the edge and perhaps that should be embarrassing but he couldn't find it in himself to care. He loved hearing the elder Witcher call him 'little one' in that soft voice of his, a voice that soothed and calmed, while somehow also doing- ...well, this.

This mess of trouble he was in as he gripped at his own thighs, finding he was rubbing his thighs together to feel something, other than those lovely hands at his back.

Vesemir kept at it quietly, listening to the soft gasps and heavy pants of the man in front of him. He worked his hands from the hem of his pants back up to his neck, feeling him tremble. 

It felt wrong, but it would feel worse to deny him this. He hadn't intended for this to happen, for Jaskier to react in this way, but it would be quite the story.

His cheeks felt hot as he moved a hand to cover his own mouth, feeling that tension unleash, a warmth flooding his body as all the other tensions seemed to, at least temporarily, release and relax.

He felt foolish, obviously. I mean, who does what he did? Who gets a massage from an older Witcher, the father figure of your potential, and then... just absolutely gets so sexually aroused by said massage and said man that you fucking climax without even—

He squeezed his eyes closed, his mind whiting out for a moment, going blank as he shuddered and trembled beneath hands, fingertips, still skimming along his heated skin.

"'m sorry," he breathed finally, once he could trust his voice to come out with actual intelligible sound and not just desperate breaths and whimpers of sounds. "Not how I intended this to go, for the record..."

Vesemir laughed, moving his hands away carefully. "I'm not offended. Just a pleasant surprise, possibly a delightful brag for another time. Though I am flattered." He hummed scooting away, giving Jaskier some space.

"I'm going to guess you don't let people touch you all that often?" He asked, getting up to pour Jaskier a drink, something to relax.

"I appear to have a particular weakness for Wolves, but otherwise, no... the only lovers I've taken since Gweld have been women that find my music to be enticing, and my tongue even more so," he replied easily, accepting the drink with a nod of thanks, before downing it.

"...Geralt pets my head sometimes, when I've fallen asleep against him. Or, when we were riding, he wrapped his arms around me. Not... not quite the same, though."

"Not quite there same at all, no." Vesemir shook his head, a soft smile on his face, offering to pour Jaskier another drink. 

"And you can't deny the natural charms of us Wolves." He teased, holding his pen drink up as a sort of toast before drinking from it. "Geralt is a cuddler. Always has been. I'm sure if you let him he could live attached to you."

"Cutest parasite I'll ever willingly agree to keeping around," Jaskier hummed, smiling at the other man, thankful that he wasn't making an overly big deal about what just happened.

The room smelled of his arousal, sweet and strong still, even now that he had—

"I feel like I need another fucking bath – pardon my uh... language, dear."

"Don't apologize on my behalf. And please do enjoy the baths as much as you'd like." Vesemir smiled, enjoying the scent of Jaskier, more like a fine wine. He himself was a little too old to get excited that easily. But he could appreciate it. 

"Make this place your home. And if any of these boys make you uncomfortable, don't hesitate to tell me, or to knock them on their ass."

Rounded pupils turned on Vesemir, a fond smile touching his lips as he pushed himself to his feet and hugged the man, however briefly.

"Thank you, Vesemir," he hummed, searching the man's face before leaning up to nuzzle his chin before pulling away quickly, moving towards the doorway.

"Goodnight, dear," he added before disappearing from the room, shame hot on his neck and his ears as he moved back towards the baths to clean himself. He changed into one of his nightgowns back at his room and tries to go to sleep, listening to the quiet of the keep, hearing two heartbeats besides his own.

One was slow and rhythmic, the other was... a bit out of place. He furrowed his brow and thought back to what Vesemir had said about Geralt and sleep, and, unable to sleep himself, Jaskier got up. He moved down the hall, bare feet padding against the cold stone floor to Geralt's room, knocking softly to his door.  
"Pup? You awake?"

Geralt stirred slightly, having a rough time sleeping. He was in and out of it, not knowing where Jaskier had gone after his bath. He was a little afraid he'd leave and almost more afraid he'd go to Vesemir. 

Did Jaskier even have any interest in him? Or were they just friends? He knew he said he'd be happy with that but truth be told it would hurt.

When no answer came, Jaskier pushed the door open and slipped inside, padding across to Geralt's bed, where he dropped to his knees, a hand going to the man's face to caress and soothe away those worry lines.

"Geralt...? Can I join you?" He asked quietly, hopefully.

Geralt hummed, the scent of Jaskier and the sound of his voice easing his worries. 

"Hmmm..." he grunted, scooting over and opening his arms, wanting the Cat to come to bed with him. 

Jaskier smelled of Vesemir, of the oils he used. It hurt a little to know he'd gone to him, had his hands on his body, but he was here now. That's what mattered.

Jaskier climbed up quickly and curled himself into Geralt's arms, pressing his face into the other man's chest to listen to his heart, to his breathing.

"You're alright, pup... nothing's gonna harm you while I'm here, not if I can help it," he whispered, carding his fingers through white hair. "I've got you, sweet thing, so you can rest now. Real sleep, okay? There's my good boy," he breathed, feeling the Wolf ease against him.

Geralt wrapped his arms tightly around Jaskier, humming low at being called a good boy. His heart slowed, finding a more comfortable pace. He was so much more relaxed with the other man in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE BOYS ARE HERE IN THE NEXT CHAPTER
> 
> Lambert and Eskel!!  
> Woo wooooo!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for some unpleasant flashbacks and discussion of Jaskier's past with Gweld

He woke in the morning, snuggled up against Jaskier, still holding his head tight to his chest. He didn't remember him coming into his room, but he did have a pleasant nights rest. "Hmm good morning." He greeted. 

There scent of Vesemir still lingered on there other man's skin, though he smelled strongly of himself.

The Cat whined softly as he stretched against Geralt, nuzzling against his chest.  
"Mmm, good morning," he murmured, his voice rough with how well he slept pressed so close to the Wolf all night long.

He bumped his nose to Geralt's chest, playing absently with his white hair. "You slept well?" He asked hopefully, feeling himself waking bit by bit.

Beyond the calming sound of Geralt's heart, he could hear slight commotion somewhere in the keep, surely signaling at least one of Geralt's brothers had arrived this morning.

Geralt hummed, nodding happily. "I did. You came to join me last night?" He smiled happily, running his hand through Jaskier's hair. "How did you sleep? Did you go get that massage?" He asked, doing his best to hide the hurt in his voice.

He smiled gently, knowingly, pressing up to nuzzle Geralt's chin.  
"Don't give me that look, sweet thing. I... I went to get that massage, yes, but only because I needed to come clean to Vesemir about Gweld," he sighed, caressing Geralt's cheek. "So don't fret too much, okay? Just a long emotional chat and a relaxing massage, and then I took another bath and came to you. To lay with you so we could both rest easy, hm?"

The second bath caused him a little more stress, but Jaskier was his own man. If he wanted to sleep with Vesemir that was his business. Here was where he laid to rest easier, he could live with knowing that at least.

"Sounds like my brothers are home. I think Vesemir will tell them about you. We can go see them later... just relax in bed a little longer?" He asked hopefully. He wanted to keep Jaskier's attention just a little longer. Selfish and stupid as he was, he worried one of his brothers might win Jaskier's affections.

Jaskier smiled into Geralt's chest, nodding, unawares of the thoughts going through the pup's head, unawares of his worries that Jaskier had slept with Vesemir, or that he might lay with one of his brothers instead of him.

...for the best, though.  
He would have probably whacked Geralt harshly had he known these foolish thoughts.

"We can stay here as long as you think they'll allow. I'm sure they're excited to see you, my love."

"I'm sure they're more excited to see you." Geralt chuckled, pulling Jaskier a little closer. "How was your first night? Think you'll be alright? It can be a little overwhelming."

"I'm... it was good, mostly because I got to fall asleep here in your bed," he hummed quietly, burying himself against Geralt. "But yeah, it is a little overwhelming, being here... all the smells of all the Wolves," he smiled sheepishly, closing his eyes. "But I'll be alright. I'll be alright right here, with you, so don't you let me go sweet thing. Don't you let me go," he breathed, closing his eyes.

He could hear the halls echoing with the sounds of other voices.

Geralt nuzzled against Jaskier, still holding him close. "I won't. You can stay right here as long as you want." He whispered, running his hand down the smaller man's back. 

He could hear the voices of his brothers now, the two of them must have met up on the road. It would be nice to see them, but it was better here, in bed, with his kitten.

"Forever, maybe, but I do think we should eventually go out there, else they surely come in here and spoil all the serene calm," he hummed quietly, closing his eyes as he wrapped his arms so tightly around Geralt.

"Come on sweet pup. Let's get our butts up and out of here, hm? Let's have me meet your brothers huh?"

Geralt let out a little whine before nodding. "Go get yourself dressed and we'll see them together." He agreed, squeezing Jaskier one more time before letting him go. 

"I'll wait in the hall for you." He offered, getting up himself and moving around to get dressed.

He was so good. Geralt, he was so damn good. Knew that Jaskier wanted his privacy, didn't want to be seen and he was so...

"Tonight, will you let me help you wash your hair? I'll braid it for you again, like I did before," he stopped at the doorway, smiling back at the handsome partially naked beast. "Will probably be nice after the crazy day I'm sure we're about to have," he added before ducking out of the room to move to his, to get dressed.

Geralt hummed, at least knowing his day would end well. Jaskier's long fingers against his scalp and through his hair was always welcome. And his hair did look nice braided like that. 

He dressed himself comfortably, waiting out in the hall for Jaskier. He worried his hands together a little, afraid it would be too much for him. Afraid his brothers wouldn't like him. Afraid they would.

"I'm the one supposed to be overrun with anxious energy, darling, so make sure you breathe," Jaskier hummed as he stepped from his room in that red doublet, open and showing off the frilled chemise beneath and his high waisted red pants, tight around his middle. Unbeknownst to Geralt, he was also bound again, rather tightly.

"You lead the way, and I'll do my best to keep us both steady," he murmured quietly, offering his hand out to the larger Witcher.

His own heart was beating a bit faster than usual, but no where near as quickly as poor Geralt's was beating.

Geralt lead Jaskier out into the main hall where both his brothers were standing. They'd already changed into more comfortable clothes, though Eskel was holding a tiny baby goat.

"There they are!" He grinned, moving to greet them. He'd seen the curious eyes on Jaskier, still holding his hand. "This is Jaskier, Jaskier this is Eskel and Lambert. Jaskier is a witcher. Cat school."

"So looks do run in with you Wolves, hm?" Jaskier chuckled, smiling sheepishly as he shook Lambert's hand, and did a little bow for Eskel, still holding his pretty goat with those eyes that seemed to match those of the wolves.

"Aren't you a pretty thing – and your goat is lovely too."

Eskel smiled, holding the goat out to Jaskier to see a little better. "Geralt always does have the loveliest friends." He commented, looking Jaskier over. 

"Don't know how he manages with his ugly mug." Lambert laughed, stepping closer to look at Jaskier. "A Cat you said? You're just the prettiest I've seen, aren't you pussy cat?" He grinned, enjoying making Geralt mad. 

"Don't call him that!" Geralt stood up for him, stepping between Lambert and Jaskier.

He was about to defend Geralt, to tell this 'Lambert' that Geralt's face was breathtaking and that he rather enjoyed waking up beside it.

But stepping so close to him, making those eyes at him and calling him—

《 _'You're just the prettiest pussy cat I've ever seen,' Gweld purred, pulling Jaskier close to him by the hips, burying his nose against Jaskier's neck. 'And you're all mine, aren't you? How lucky am I?' He chuckled, nipping at the Cat's neck._ 》

He stood there in front of Lambert, frozen, with his pupils so narrow there was only blue. His heart pounded heavily but he was barely breathing. His claws dug into his palms and even though he was looking at Geralt's back, he wasn't seeing him or Lambert, wasn't hearing them.

Geralt and Lambert were bickering, pushing each other a little bit. Geralt turned to see why Jaskier was so quiet, hearing his heart pounding away. "Look what you've done you idiot! I told you not to call him that!" He rested his hand on Jaskier's cheek. 

"Hey, Jaskier, kitten. You're alright. You're here with me, come back." He called quietly, holding him close to his chest, trying to get his heart to slow.

《 _'Come back to bed my little pussy cat, I promise it won't hurt so much this time. I'll be gentle, take it slow,' Gweld begged quietly, dragging Jaskier back to bed with sweet words and a promising gentle touch._ 》

He felt hands on him, and the general smell of _Wolf_ filled his nose. He shouted and fought against the hands on him, the hold, his heart skittering away like a frightened rabbit, far too quick for a Witcher's naturally slower heart rate.  
He shoved the Wolf off of him and dropped himself to the ground, pulling his daggers into his hands and feigning that he was protecting himself, sheltering in himself and making himself small as possible.

Geralt pushed his brothers back, warning them not to get defensive. He knelt down with Jaskier, hearing his heart beating way too fast. "Easy... Jaskier. Can you hear me? Come on kitten, say something."

_Kitten.  
Come on kitten.  
Jaskier._

He dared to peek from his place curled in on himself, daggers at the ready should he not like what he sees, but—

"Geralt," he breathed, blinking a few times, his pupils rounding out a bit as his heart calmed, his breathing returning to a more normal rhythm.

Not Gweld.  
Not the past.  
He was safe, here, with Geralt.  
His brother hadn't meant- He hadn't known.

"It's really you, sweet pup?" He breathed, cautious as his eyes watered his grip on his daggers going a little lax.

"Its really me, look." Geralt smiled, slowly offering his hand out to Jaskier. 

"I've got you. You alright, kitten?" He asked quietly, kneeling in front of him while his brothers watched on.

He dropped his daggers, taking Geralt's hand in his own, bringing it to his face as he shuddered out a quiet sob.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry... I'm fine, I just–" he looked up at Geralt, and passed him to Lambert, Eskel and Vesemir. "Shit, I'm... I'm really sorry..."

Well, now he was definitely banned, surely.

Geralt smiled, inching closer to Jaskier, running his thumb along his cheek. "It's alright, you're alright." He hummed, only looking to Jaskier. 

Vesemir smiled at the two of them, relaxing a bit. He was quite proud how Geralt handled that, soft as he'd always been, might finally have a use for that heart of his. 

"Gave us a scare there, Cat. You alright?" Eskel asked, running his fingers along the goats fur, listening to the Witcher's heart slow.

Jaskier leaned in closer to Geralt, bumping his nose against the his pup's own, careful. "I'm alright, yes," he murmured quietly. "I should apologize – not usually how first meetings go," he paused, smiling at Geralt, a laugh pulling from him. "Actually, with me, it seems they do go something like this don't they, sweet pup? Least I didn't pounce on anyone from above and put a blade to their throat, hm?"

He reached up, cupping Geralt's cheek, bumping their noses together again, feeling a sense of safety wash over him, so close to his sweet as he was now.

"I'm afraid I overreact more than not. Will you both forgive a skittish Cat for such transgressions?" He asked, peeking past his wolf. "And, in return, _never_ refer to me as that ever again?" He added, his pupils narrowing at Lambert in particular.

Lambert nodded, looking down at his feet. He did feel kind of bad making Jaskier freak out like that. "Yeah, sorry." 

Geralt stood, offering his hands down to Jaskier, wanting to pull him up to his feet. "Let's get you off the floor. No holding blades to anyone's throats. That's for me." He teased, bumping their heads together, taking a deep breath. 

"I'm going to go start dinner now that everyone's here. Why don't you boys get out of my hair and make yourselves busy." Vesemir looked to them each, then Jaskier. "Could always use a hand if these pups are too much to handle."

Lambert nodded, looking down at his feet. He did feel kind of bad making Jaskier freak out like that. "Yeah, sorry." 

Geralt stood, offering his hands down to Jaskier, wanting to pull him up to his feet. "Let's get you off the floor. No holding blades to anyone's throats. That's for me." He teased, bumping their heads together, taking a deep breath. 

"I'm going to go start dinner now that everyone's here. Why don't you boys get out of my hair and make yourselves busy." Vesemir looked to them each, then Jaskier. "Could always use a hand if these pups are too much to handle."

He let Geralt help him up, moving to gather his daggers and sheath them away. "My dear, do you mind if I–?" Jaskier nodded his head towards Vesemir, towards the kitchens. "Let you catch up with your brothers, tell them all about our various meetings, but most especially our first," he smiled, giving Geralt's hand a squeeze, enjoying their small ways of showing their close bond, their fondness for one another.  
He was mostly pleased that Geralt returned the small gestures and didn't try for anything beyond. Not yet.

Geralt smiled, nodding and letting Jaskier go with a squeeze to his hand. He was a little sad to watch him go back with Vesemir, but knew he'd be calm and safe there. "If he's making dumplings, take notes. I want that recipe." He teased, turning to go with his brothers.

Eskel looked to Jaskier another moment before turning and following, talking about his new pet. 

Vesemir looked to Jaskier, leading back to the kitchens. "Care to talk about what happened?"

"I'm sorry," he started, biting at his lip as he followed Vesemir along towards the kitchens, already knowing the route.

"...I have flashes of memories sometimes. My time with... with Gweld. Before the attack, during it, and after. My mind just conjures them up when I get overwhelmed, when something is said that reminds me of something he said," he swallowed heavily, averting his gaze as they made it to the kitchens. He leaned against the doorway.

"He would call me _pretty_ , would call me _his_ , but above all he always called me his _'pussy cat'_. It was something of a joke to him, but I was too blinded by my feelings to care..."

"Rather rude joke." Vesemir huffed, but didn't judge Jaskier for it. "I think it may be time to work through your traumas. You're in a safe environment, no one here is going to hurt you. Might do you some good to talk things over." He suggested, moving around the kitchen. 

"Get him out of your mind so he doesn't have that power over you anymore."

Jaskier nodded quietly, moving with Vesemir, helping him with whatever it is that he needed assistance with.

It had been a rather rude joke, and he had hated himself for a long while after Gweld's death for allowing it to go on. It's part of why he stood his ground so firmly with Geralt about it, why he was happy Geralt stood that ground now, too.

"I don't know where to even begin..." he murmured finally, stopping to glance at Vesemir. "How do I take the power from someone I've already slain?"

Vesemir shrugged, looking back to Jaskier. "How do you care for a wraith?" He asked, busying himself. "You find the most important pieces and burn them." He added, not waiting for an answer. "Find those pieces you're still holding on to, and free yourself."

"Well I can't just dig into my damn brain and burn bits that contain him, now can I?!" He snapped, instantly regretting it and backing down, covering his mouth.

"Sorry, sorry, I just mean..." he bit his lip, wondering if—

"The first time we were together, intimately, was when he started calling me _'pussy cat'_. Said I was the _'prettiest pussy cat'_ he'd ever seen. He pulled me close and laid claim to me and it _hurt_. His teeth, his hands, his cock– all of it, it hurt. And I... cried, but he carried on because I didn't tell him no. But when he was through, I left bed, I didn't want to lay there anymore but he... he called me back to bed, called me his _'little pussy cat'_ and promised me it wouldn't hurt as much the next time, that he would be gentle and take it slow, so I let him drag me back to bed," he sighed, averting his gaze, gripping the counter.

"That's the flash I had just earlier. When Lambert looked at me that way, called me the prettiest and a pussy cat. It took me back there."

"Lambert just likes to get Geralt riled up. I wouldn't be surprised if the two of them are out there fighting each other right now." Vesemir huffed, rolling his eyes. "I'm sorry you got caught in the middle of it, though." He started, thinking about what Jaskier was saying. 

He'd helped his boys solve their problems for years, even after they'd become men. Discussing their feelings was hard, but the Cat seemed to be bursting with them. 

"You can't just dig the parts out. But you can find what hurts and help it heal."

"But... I don't know what hurts until it knocks me off my ass, like that did today," he murmured, standing still to listen for the sounds of his pup fighting against his brother, and sure enough, he could hear the two fools sparring, and it brought a bit of a smile to his lips.

"I know his betrayal hurt me. Because... gods, I loved him. He was my first, and my first love, and I would have done anything for him. _Did_ do anything for him, anything he asked and sometimes even things he didn't outright ask," he murmured, worrying his lip. "It... it broke me and tore me to pieces when I found out it had all been a lie. That'd he'd been using me and he didn't even know my name. Didn't bother to remember it."

Vesemir felt sick at that, hating that one of his own could do that to anyone, especially a sweet thing like Jaskier. "You're working through it by being here. By letting Geralt and the rest of us into your life. Give yourself some credit." He smiled sadly, wishing like always he could take that pain from the little one. 

"It's not an easy process, but there might be a time where you won't even think of him."

Blue eyes looked up to Vesemir, pupils slightly rounded as he tilted his head and smiled, soft white curls falling to the side.

"Thank you, Vesemir. I... where I'm at currently, I can't believe that I'll ever be free of him and all that he'd done but... if you think I can get passed all of this and come out the other side, then perhaps I should believe in you a bit more, and believe in myself a whole lot more," he chuckled softly, returning to helping with the cooking.

Vesemir smiled, going back to his work. "If you want to go see what the boys are up to you can go head." He offered, looking to Jaskier. "I'm sure Geralt is jealous enough, poor thing." He teased lightly, looking back to the food. "Should be about another hour or so."

"I'll leave you to it, then," he breathed, smiling as he finished a little of the work he was doing. He moved over to Vesemir and nuzzled his jaw, giving the man's arm a gentle squeeze.

"Thank you. I'll let the pups know they've an hour or so to play and then it's food time," he chuckled lightly, releasing the man and moving from the kitchens to go find where the boys had gone off to. He found the three of them outside in the courtyard, Geralt and Lambert fighting, Eskel and his goat off to the side watching.

He moved over to lean against the wall near Eskel, watching the other Wolves fighting.

"So... who's your little darling?"

"This is Lil' Bleater. Got her as a payment." Eskel smiled down to the goat, still so small. "Want to hold her?" He asked, offering her out to the other Witcher. 

"You and Geralt then? I've never seen him look at someone like that before. He seems happy." He commented, brushing fur off his shirt.

"Lil' Bleater?!" He beamed, taking the small creature into his arms, smiling at her happily. "Oh, aren't you such a beautiful little thing?" He cooed to the fuzzy creature before looking up to Eskel, still smiling.

"Ah, well....nothing official or anything, except that we are most certainly friends, at the very least and... I know he wants more. And, I want to try being that for him, with him," he shrugged, stroking the baby goat in his arms, hugging her gently.

Eskel shrugged, looking back out to his brothers not even pretending to be training anymore, just beating the shit out of each other with their bare hands. "I'm not trying to get involved. Just think he looks happy, whatever the two of you are. It's good to see him like that, he kind of gave up a few years ago, thought we'd lose him." He explained, looking to the goat in the Cat's arms. "He's an idiot. Could use someone smart keeping him in line."

"Gave up a few years ago...?" He asked, his brow furrowing a little as he looked from Eskel to the idiots beating on each other.

"If you two bleed on each other, you better get your asses to the bath before dinner! Vesemir said it should be done in about an hour!" He shouted across the courtyard at the fighting pair.

He sighed, turning his attention back to Eskel, back to petting the precious creature in his arms.

"Something I should ask him about or something I should ask you about instead so it doesn't bring up bad things for him?"

"Geralt took the attacks personally. Was real broken up to find out so many of our brothers would rather have petty revenge over protecting each other. He wasn't even here for it." Eskel explained, watching them go at it still. 

"He just seemed distant. Got real quiet. Took job after job. Weren't enough of us to travel in pairs anymore so he was out on his own. He'd come home at the end of the year just looking worse each time. Like he was losing himself." He sighed, looking down to his hands. "He's so dramatic and Lambert always has to dig at him. Couldn't really ask him what was bothering him, but he seemed heartbroken."

"He's only talked about it briefly a couple of times, when I talked about it, when I uhm... had another of those moments like you and Lambert had to witness earlier," he sighed, burying his face against the sweet little goat, listening to her make little noises.

"I'm sorry about that, again, by the way. I'm... working through some stuff, I guess you could say," he laughed softly, shrugging.

He was definitely going to ask Geralt about this, about his past with the attack and taking it so hard. He wondered what really happened.

Eskel listened to the goat bleating quietly, appreciating the attention. "Its fine. I've met Cats in the past. Your mutations are messed up, right? You feel too much, yeah?" He asked, wincing as he saw Lambert knee Geralt between the legs, gladly taking his victory, wiping the sweat and blood off his face and moving to sit near his brother. 

"Ouch... anyway, it's nice to meet you. Hope we can all get along."

Lambert laughed, watching Geralt roll to his side trying to catch his breath from that. "Sorry about earlier. Had to get that out of my system. Love a good Cat. Your school has the rudest jokes."

"Our emotions overwhelm us. Some of my brothers and sisters learned ways of dealing with that but I...well, I haven't found what works for me just yet, I suppose," he replied, only a partial lie, but his attention was drawn away from Eskel when he heard Geralt grunt in pain, and saw the movement of Lambert coming over.

"Love a good Wolf, seems you are the rudest joke, though," he replied coolly, raising a brow as he looked past Eskel to the other Wolf, before glancing across to Geralt. He handed Lil' Bleater back– reluctantly– and moved over to Geralt.

"Got you good, did he, pup? Don't worry, I'll take him down for you next time sweet one."

He made sure his voice was loud enough for the others to hear him.

Eskel laughed at Lambert's face at being called a joke, not really used to being called out on his shit. He got up, leaving to put his goat in the stables, getting her nice and comfortable.

"Yeah Geralt! Gotta let your little boyfriend win all your fights?" Lambert called, getting up and leaving to go wash up before going to dinner. 

Geralt rolled to his side, sitting up with his knees pushed tight together, still holding himself. He'd had the wind knocked out of him with that one.

Jaskier felt a fire bubble in his chest, anger seeping from him as he glared after the retreating form of Lambert.

"Is it inappropriate to attack one of your brothers in the spirit of 'training' and then beat him into the ground?" He asked with a soft growl to his voice as he helped his pup to his feet, looping an arm under him to help hold him up.

He moved them towards the baths so he could clean Geralt up a little.

"Are you alright sweet thing?"

"I'm fine... that bastard." Geralt huffed, still holding himself. "That's going to fucking bruise." He looked up to Jaskier. "He's just like that. You'll get used to him. He's the baby." He walked with Jaskier, letting himself be helped to wash up. 

"How are you? You alright?"

"Oh, no, I was very much referring to me, beating him into the ground. Is that inappropriate?" He laughed as he held Geralt wash his face and his knuckles, eyeing the way he held himself, still.

"You...going to be alright there, love? Get you in your jewels pretty hard?"

Never fear – Jaskier would exact revenge later.

"I...talked to Vesemir while I was helping to cook, and I aired some feelings out, that I'd like to talk with you about tonight, if we can," he smiled reassuringly, not wanting his poor foolish pup to be jealous. "And I talked to Eskel a little. He says you look happy, and he's glad, because they... thought they'd lost you for a while there? After the attack? Is that... something you think you'll talk to me about later, too?"

"Anything you wanna talk about." Geralt agreed, smiling softly. "And if you wanna kick his ass, it's not like I'm going to stop you." He laughed, wincing as he moved too much. 

"He hit me so hard I thought I'd puke." He groaned, leaning against Jaskier. "Good thing I've got my little kitten here to help me out." He teased, bumping their noses together.

Jaskier held Geralt upright, careful and gentle with him, returning the soft nose bump with a smile on his lips.

"I may be little, but that doesn't mean I can't pick you up and throw you into bed if you're not careful," he hummed. "Bed with no dinner? Don't think that's a punishment you can easily come back from," he teased softly, already plotting his attack on Lambert.

"I've got your back, pup, and I'll happily take on your brothers for you, fight any battle you need help with."

It was the closest he could get to sharing his true, growing feelings for Geralt.

"Don't know why I'm the one being punished! Isnt this bad enough!?" Geralt cried out dramatically, smiling to Jaskier. "Besides, you said you'd do my hair for me tonight. Nothing gonna make him more jealous than me looking beautiful in the morning." He teased, fluttering his lashes. 

"Going to help me to the kitchen to eat? Is he making dumplings?"

The Cat chuckled and nosed Geralt's cheek. "Oh, yes yes... my poor darling. Good though that we're already infertile, hm? Otherwise Lambert may have made plenty sure you wouldn't be reproducing anytime soon," he hummed, patting his love's cheek.

Geralt could be so dramatic, if he didn't already know for sure that he was a Wolf – both by smell and by Vesemir being the one to train him – then he might wonder if Geralt weren't one of his own. A Cat.

"If I tell you he is in fact making dumplings, will you hobble your lovely bottom at a quicker pace?"

Geralt laughed, rubbing at his thighs that were still a little sore from the abuse too. "Might not be doing anything involving that for a while... maybe I can freeze a bottle of wine and hold it between my legs." He hummed at the though, carefully standing, ready to head to the kitchen. 

"Once it thaws we can share it during my bath." He offered with a wink. "Doesn't that sound romantic?"

"Oh yes, frozen wine, crotch thawed and enjoyed during a lovely bath," Jaskier snickered but tucked an arm under Geralt, helping him along. "You sure know how to woo, don't you? Such a charmer with your romantic ways my darling, such a wonder that I was able to snatch you up before anyone else started to slowly sink their claws into you," he sighed dramatically, nosing against his pup, nearly to the kitchen now.

He could hear the ruckus of the other Wolves chattering away.

"You don't want my cock wine? So ungrateful. I was going to grab something good too." Geralt huffed playfully, but went about heading to the cellar for a bottle anyway. 

He came back, freeing the bottle before continuing to the kitchen. "Should be good enough to enjoy by bath time." He laughed, following him into the kitchen. 

Lambert laughed, watching him sit down with the frozen bottle between his legs. "How's your balls? Better? Or will we have a peaceful nights sleep?" He teased before getting smacked upside the head by Vesemir.

Jaskier shot a scathing look across to Lambert, already feeling like if he didn't kick this kids ass, he was going to be dealing with these kinds of stupid remarks his whole winter here.

"How's your ego? Puffed enough that it'll hurt when I pop it in your face? Or will I have to endure paying you some compliments before taking your ass to the ground?" Jaskier hissed, a dark smirk on his lips, pupils narrow as he tilted his head and stared Lambert down.

"You can compliment me any time you'd like, pretty kitty! Anything to have your hands on me!" Lambert grinned, blowing a playful kiss as he sat down at the table. 

"Just leave him be. That's what he wants, is for you to get riled up. It means you're paying attention to him." Eskel laughed, patting Lambert's shoulder. "Just tell him he's a pretty pup and he'll move on. Or kick his ass and give us all a show, either way. My money's on Jaskier." He smirked to his brother before helping Geralt get his food. 

Vesemir shook his head, watching Geralt limp in, sitting with a frozen bottle between his legs. "I want nothing to do with this. Whatever happened is between you kids. But I have 50 crowns on Jaskier."

The Cat smirked, very much the look of how one would describe 'the kitten getting the cream/milk'.

It was flattering and reassuring that both Eskel and Vesemir would put money on him to beat Lambert. One of their own.  
Eskel's brother, Vesemir's pup.  
And yet they were betting for him to be the one to come out on top?

He stood a little straighter, his eyes still trained on Lambert.  
"How's tomorrow, mutt? You and me, and we'll settle this for a good while, until you get hot air blown up your ass again and I have to take you down another few pegs," he hummed, glancing towards Geralt, being helped to his seat by Eskel.

"Why are you so obsessed with my ass? Let you get a good look if you asked nicely!" Lambert grinned, settling in at the table, pouring the water for everyone. 

Geralt groaned as he sat, taking a moment to settle in before smiling to Jaskier. He rolled his eyes, listening to his brother blab on and on while Vesemir served their food out for them. "Why don't you let someone else talk, hmm? Personally I want to know about this goat. Why would you accept a goat?" He tried, wanting to veer the conversation elsewhere.

"Yes, tell us about the job you did where you accepted Lil' Bleater here as payment," Jaskier chimed in, sitting down to eat with the Wolves, not feeling at all like the outcast or pariah he thought he would feel like, anytime he imagined coming here with Gweld.

He felt... like one of them, or at the very least a part of their family, their pack.

Eskel smiled, enjoying the way Jaskier looked at him as he told his story, eating his dinner. Everyone took their turns talking about their time away from home, discussing what they'd do during the winter and possible plans for the spring. 

The others started to finish their meals, Lambert sticking behind to do the dishes. Eskel and Vesemir bidding the others good night before heading off together to chat. 

Geralt smiled to Jaskier, looking at him softly from across the table. "What would you like to do now, kitten? I have something delicious between my legs if you'd like to go have a taste?" He wiggled his brows playfully.

He couldn't help the roll of his eyes. "Yes yes, very well. Let's go enjoy your crotch thawed cock wine while I give you a bath, braid your hair," he hummed, pushing himself from the table and moving to take Geralt's hand.

"Need the extra support, pup, or can you handle the walk with just my hand in yours?" He asked genuinely, wanting to know if Geralt needed his arm under him again, helping to hold him aloft.

His mind was also whirring because he was planning to ask about what Eskel had divulged to him about Geralt having had a rough time after the attack.

Geralt hummed, slipping his hand into Jaskier's, smiling as he led the way to the baths, still talking about their dinner as they went. 

"Did you want to go bathe first? I can wait if you want?" He asked, offering that up to Jaskier.

"No, if I find I need another bath today, I'll take one later tonight when all you Wolves are sound asleep."

He could listen to them all breathing, listen to their hearts beat, and could relax.  
Hopefully.  
Ideally.

"This bath is all about you, sweet one. About making you feel good and pretty," he added, giving the man's hand a squeeze. "Make you smell nice and I get the pleasurable honor of not only helping do all that, but I get to braid your lovely hair."

Geralt laughed, looking over to Jaskier. "Calling me stinky?" He asked, turning and heading toward the private baths then. 

He helped with the water before opening their bottle of wine, letting it breathe a moment before having a drink, holding it out to Jaskier to take while he got himself undressed.

With what had to have been his thousandth eyeroll of the night, Jaskier took the bottle from Geralt and took a drink, watching him for only a moment or two as he got undressed.  
When he realized what he was doing, he quickly turned away, taking another drink.

"Your cock wine is pretty damn good, I will admit..."

"Maybe I'm on to something there. Could be pretty nice in the summer months." Geralt laughed, having enjoyed the eyes on him while he undressed. 

He carefully climbed into the tub, sighing and rolling his neck. "I'm in if you wanted to turn around."

"Could be pretty nice to drink but I imagine especially pretty nice for your balls," Jaskier teased lightly, turning around and taking up one of the low stools to sit beside the tub Geralt was in. A big thing, far bigger than ones available at inns. Probably built specifically for these big Wolves, whereas when Jaskier had bathed, he felt so dwarfed by the size of the tub.

"Get your hair wet for me, pup."

Geralt slid down, dipping his head under the water, coming back up, splashing Jaskier a bit. 

"How do you like it here? Other than this morning with Lambert, things seem to be going good, yeah?" He asked, scrubbing at his face.

He hissed and smacked the back of Geralt's head lightly, his brow furrowed.

"I... could get used to being here, even with Lambert being a pain in the neck," he sighed, scooting back closer to Geralt and the tub, popping open a lavender vial with his teeth, pouring a bit of its contents into his hands before stoppering it and working the oils into Geralt's hair, massaging his head.

"Eskel said you got pretty distant after the attack here and on my School. He said it's good to see you so happy again," he murmured, starting. "So what... what happened? Why did you pull away from them?"

"Lambert's just showing off. Just give him a day or two." Geralt leaned his head back, chasing the touch. 

"I wasn't here for the attack. I couldn't have done anything, just came back to the aftermath of it all. Wasn't even here to burn my brothers. I realized I can't protect them. That someday, I was going to lose them too." He sighed, lowering into the water a bit. 

"Can I be honest with you? Just a secret between the two of us?" He asked hopefully, looking up at Jaskier, his beautiful blue eyes.

"Of course you can, sweet thing. My lips are sealed if you ask me to seal them," he mimed sealing up his lips before smiling and giving him a curious look.

"You can tell me anything at all, Geralt, I promise you that."

"I hate being a Witcher. I hate everything about it." Geralt sighed heavily, keeping his voice down. "I used to think it was about helping people! That I was going to be some sort of hero... but then it's just this shit." He huffed, slapping his hands into the water. 

"I didn't get to choose this, my mom abandoned me here. They turned me into this, and while I love my brothers and Vesemir I just... it's all difficult choices and politics. People hate us for things we had no say in. Do they think I'd want to be this way? To be spit on and screamed at? Just because I want to help?"

Jaskier felt his heart break a little, getting that glimpse of the man Vesemir had said Geralt was. Soft and emotional, with a big heart. He wasn't like normal Witchers; wasn't heartless like some, or power hungry like others. Wasn't ruthless or cocky...

_He was so very human._

"My father gave me to the Cat School because he had hoped that I would either die going through the trials, or that they would kill me for... other reasons," he sighed, averting his gaze a bit. "But they loved me, there. They took me in and taught and they loved me, and I loved them. My brothers and sisters..." he smiled sadly, trailing his fingers through Geralt's hair absently as they talked.

"I've... can I tell you something now, too? No where near as uh... earth shattering as what you've said but—" he chewed his lip. "The reason I've been going to Vesemir– he reminds me of one of my sisters. Please... don't tell him that, as he might take offense and I don't want to be banned from coming here again," he laughed sheepishly. "I was trained to trust and respect the Witcher elders, and so it came naturally to me to be able to talk to him. About... about Gweld. About my past."

"He's a good man. I was lucky to have him to raise me. He was always so good to me, understanding. We hardly ever heard no as boys." Geralt laughed, resting his head against the back of the tub, looking up at Jaskier. 

"Heard a lot of _'what the fuck do you think you're doing'_ but he always tried to reason with us. Explain things. Though nothing could have prepared me for the humans of the world." He sighed heavily, worrying his hands together. "I enjoy being around other witchers. Non-humans. But I just... I don't understand so many of the humans, why they live such short lives filled with so much hate. It made me hate it, all of it. So when we started going to war with each other, with the other schools, I didn't see the point of any of it anymore."

He could understand that. He hated the fighting among brothers as well, hated that so many were wiped out and for what? Because some were different? Because... just because revenge or some other petty reasoning?

"Gweld used me, the entire couple years we were together, traveling and otherwise. He was soft occasionally, and I think that's what kept me around him. Because the times he was soft were so good, the times he was gentle and kind were just so much that it made all the other things he did okay," he murmured, feeling his eyes watering as he looked down to Geralt.

"He hurt me, Geralt. He made me feel worthless and made me feel like I wasn't good," he admitted, feeling that he deserved to know. Deserved to know what he was up against in terms of Jaskier needing to heal. "He was my first and he... sort of made it all about him, ruined the experience for me, but I just couldn't say no to him, couldn't deny him a thing because I was so lost in loving him. ...that's what it's like to be with me. It's not always these overwhelming bad emotions – anger and anguish and hurt. I also get overwhelmed with the good emotions too. When I love, I love with all of my entire being. ...and I want to love you, Geralt."

Geralt sat up, shifting around to face Jaskier. "I want to love you too. And I understand that's going to take time. That I have to work for it and earn it." He reached out, cupping the smaller man's cheek. "But it'll be worth it all because it's you." He whispered, bringing their foreheads together. 

"I get you might not love me like that, but you are so important to me. Worth everything to me. I want whatever you'd be willing to give and I would never want for more."

The Cat's eyes watered and flooded over, tears slipping down his cheeks because of Geralt's soft, kind words. They were genuine, he could tell, because Geralt had proved that through actions.  
The pup cared so deeply for him, even if he couldn't yet return the strength of all that just yet.

"You're such a sweet-talking sap, pup," he breathed, hugging of a soft laugh through his tears, nuzzling their noses together. "I'm working on this for you, my darling. I'm working on getting past these bad memories and emotions for you. For me, too, but..."

"Oh I get worse too, I promise you." Geralt smiled, carefully wiping the tears off Jaskier's cheek. "And if nothing comes out of this, at least maybe you can be happy. Get all that pain out of your heart. And at the very least I will always be your friend. You will always have a home here. This can be your family now too if you want."

Jaskier threw his arms around Geralt's neck, burying his face against the man's damp shoulder, tears still slipping from his eyes as he hugged the other Witcher so tightly.

"Thank you, sweetheart, thank you," he breathed, nuzzling his way against the man's neck.

"Now! Then... let me finish washing your hair and I'll braid it nice for you. Show off to your brothers," he chuckled, sitting back and wiping at his face, tapping Geralt's nose with a forefinger, smiling at him.

Geralt smiled back, turning around to let Jaskier finish his hair. The words bubbling up in his chest, but he knew Jaskier wasn't ready to hear them yet. 

_I love you._

It was one of the few things he knew for certain when it came to another person. He felt it soon after they met the second time and the feeling grew the longer they were together. The softer Jaskier was to him, the harder it became not to tell him. It just wasn't the right time yet. 

They'd do this at his pace. However long it took.

He hummed softly as he finished washing Geralt's hair, some new piece he was working on, that he had most of a tune, but not many a words for it. As he hummed and finished washing his hair, he started braiding strands either side of his head, bringing them together at the back and tying them. He grinned, nuzzling his nose into the freshly washed lavender smelling hair.

"There we are my beautiful dear. All clean and braided. I assume you can handle washing the rest of yourself?"

"If I say no are you going to help me?" Geralt asked playfully, turning to give him a flirty look. He laughed, turning back and picking up the sponge. 

"Go on then, you going to bathe too? Theres more tubs and I won't look. Could keep you company." He offered, knowing the answer was probably no.

Jaskier rolled his eyes and whacked Geralt on the head, lightly. "Cheeky," he hummed, nosing the other man's cheek.

"...you _promise_ you won't look if I take a bath?" He asked, chewing his lower lip, seriously contemplating. It would be nice after the stress of the day. Smelling the calming lavender in Geralt's hair was only doing so much to ease the strain and the stress of the panic he'd suffered today, and the anger.

"Promise. You can go over there or something." Geralt offered, smiling up at him. "I'll keep you company, maybe we can just talk?"

He nodded, pushing his stool away and moving to one of the other tubs, a little ways away from Geralt's. He stripped, keeping his eyes on Geralt as he did so, wanting to trust him but also just... wanting to be sure.

He set his clothes to the side and climbed into the tub, having taken the lavender vial with him, dumping the contents into his water.

"Alright, I'm submerged," he chuckled.

Geralt laughed, looking over to him. "You're so far away!" He smiled, sinking in to his own tub, making sure not to get his hair wet. 

"This is nice though."

Jaskier grinned, shuddering in his water.  
"I am rather far away, but it's not like I have to shout for you to hear me, pup," he hummed, blowing at the water, dipping himself under to wet his white curls.

"Someday, I promise, I'll be comfortable enough to bathe with you, or for you to see me or help me bathe or... all of those things. I'm thankful, though, that you're patient with me."

Geralt hummed, looking up to the ceiling. "You're patient with me, why wouldn't I be?" He asked, looking over to him. "You're worth the wait. Besides, I get a good friend out of it, and you get to laugh at me, I'm sure."

"What! I do not laugh at yo– ...yeah, okay maybe you're right. I do get a good laugh out of the silly things you do, from time to time. And I'm sure, stuck together in this place for a whole season, I'll have plenty to laugh about," he hummed happily, running his fingers through his damp curls that clung to his face.

He felt so warm, and so overflowing with care and more and Geralt was just so good... Where Gweld had been all rough and harsh and bad, Geralt was soft and sweet and so damn good. It made Jaskier ache with how much he wanted to be able to love him, to be able to call Geralt his and really and truly mean it with every fibre of his being.

"That's if you don't kill me first!" Geralt laughed again. He was so impossibly happy, just to be here with Jaskier. He was just so beautiful and he was trying so hard. 

Every little bit he budged, every new thing he gave was so exciting. He was getting closer, and despite him thinking he was difficult to be around, hard to love, it was so easy for Geralt. He just wanted to be around him, even if that meant having a knife to his throat now and then.

"Mm, I think there's a higher chance of me killing your baby brother than there is chance of me killing you, dearheart," Jaskier teased lightly, peeking over at Geralt, grinning playfully.

He felt almost like a child again, sitting in this over large tub. He could sprawl out in this thing and still have room for another of himself. He could only imagine how big the communal bath was, in that case.

"But! I promise I will only maim or injure your brother and not kill him. Or you, for that matter," he chuckled softly, resting his chin on his hands at the edge of the tub, looking over at Geralt.  
The lavender was doing its work, soothing his senses and the overactive emotions running rampant in his brain.

"How do you spend your time usually? When you're here for the winter?"

"You're going to laugh at me." Geralt looked over at Jaskier, feeling a little embarrassed. 

"I like to read, we all take our share of cleaning. Sometimes we go ice fishing, hunting... but I like to knit. Gotten pretty good at it."

The Cat raised a brow, tilting his head a little. "Reading and knitting? Definitely not what I imagined... You sound like a little old lady," he chuckled, smiling fondly across at Geralt, his pupils rounded. "Cleaning, ice fishing and hunting sound rather normal, though."

Geralt tried to splash Jaskier from where he was. "I told you you'd laugh!" He rested his arms against the side of the tub. He felt like a teen, crushing for the first time. 

"I mean, I am about 90 years old, so I guess it's normal." He hummed, watching him. "What about you? You have any hobbies other than your music?"

"Looking good for 90, my darling. You're still just a pup though," he hummed, looking off thoughtfully, his tongue poking out a little.  
"Well, music is rather time consuming. There's the actual writing the music bits, and then there's writing the lyric bits, and there's the combining them and actually playing it," he sighed.

"But, I guess otherwise, I like reading, too. I've been known to steal books here and there, as I've said," he grinned, a cheeky look in his eyes.

"Don't say that too loud. Vesemir is very protective of his books." Geralt laughed, watching Jaskier happily. "I'll let you wash up. Wait for you in the hall?"

"Oh, yeah that's fine. Go on then sweet thing, I'll be out shortly," he hummed, smiling at the Wolf and shooing him away.

Geralt got out of the water, drying himself off, just wrapping himself in the towel. He picked his clothes up, moving to wait for Jaskier. 

He hummed, feeling content and happy being home. For the first time in years, it didn't seem so lonely to be back.

Jaskier couldn't help watching Geralt dry off, wrap a towel around himself and move from the room. He sighed, smiling softly as he waited a moment before cleaning himself up, rubbing lavender into his skin before getting out of the tub and wrapping a towel around himself. He held it up by his chin and bent to grab his clothes, shuffling out to the hall.

He froze there at the doorway, having been lost in his own thoughts, not hearing the second voice outside.  
"Oh– H-Hi."

Geralt smiled over to Jaskier, turning back to Lambert. They were chatting now as if nothing had happened earlier. 

Lambert slowly looked Jaksier over, smirking and looking between the two. "Just tell me which tub you used so I'm not diseased with whatever Geralt has that made him so ugly." He grinned, elbowing his brother. "I'd ask how your bath was but... I'm not sure I want to know." He hummed, moving around the two of them, going into the baths, giving them a lingering look. 

"Ignore him. Come on, kitten." Geralt rolled his eyes, leading the way back to their rooms.

The Cat huffed, his cheeks warm and red as he held his towel tighter to himself. "I didn't even hear him..." he murmured, stepping closer to Geralt so he could grab the man's hand in his own, hold tight to it.

"You said he'll eventually settle down? Because I don't think I can handle a whole winter of him giving me the eye and teasing us about things we haven't even done."

"He'll get over himself soon enough." Geralt shrugged, taking Jaskier's hand and heading back to their rooms. "Until then, don't worry about him. All he wants is you to get worked up."

"Not all that difficult to accomplish, I'm afraid," Jaskier sighed, rubbing the warmth and embarrassment out of his cheeks. "Easy to rile a Cat, especially when he has the sort of ammunition against me that he has– you," he looked up to Geralt, a dark little smile curling up his lips.

"Whether you know it or not, and whether I like it or not, you've become something of my weak point."

"Oh you picked a bad weakness with Lambert then. I'm his least favorite." Geralt teased, bumping Jaskier with his shoulder. "I think you might be mine." He hummed, giving his hand a squeeze, walking him to his room. 

"Well... goodnight I guess."

"I'm your least favorite?" He asked, a tease of course as they stopped and he smiled up at Geralt, his blue eyes sparkling with his held back laughter. "I go through all the trouble of telling you how you very well are surely my weakness and you got me to the core telling me that I am your least favorite?" He played at being wounded, holding his chest while still holding the towel high on himself.

"...I enjoy our time together though, truly, my dear."

"Sure am gutsy, aren't I?" Geralt teased, smiling to Jaskier. "I don't think you could be my least anything." He hummed, bumping their heads together again. 

"I do too. And we get to spend more together tomorrow." He whispered excitedly. "And every day until you're sick of me."

"My, then it's very possible that you'll be stuck with me until the ends of time," he hummed, pulling Geralt close, leaning up as he pulled the taller man down, resting their foreheads together a moment.

This was their current version of intimacy and Jaskier would never admit out loud that he at some times favored it over more physical and outright intimacy. It was a moment of closeness, of just being together. He could smell the lavender on the both of them, could feel the damp of their skin, could smell the underlying natural scent of woodash and iron.

"Sleep well, my sweet pup. I'll see you in the morning and we can have another whole day together. Perhaps you might like to spar with me?"

"Hmm... as long as you promise to keep it above the belt, it would be my honor." Geralt hummed, resting their foreheads over a moment longer before pulling away. 

"Sweet dreams, kitten. See you in the morning."

"I would never deem to hit you in a place such as your brother did, my dear. Far too valuable for when I am comfortable enough to enjoy such a liberty," he purred, winking before quickly slinking into his room, dropping the towel as he closed the door.

He dressed in one of his nightgowns again, before slipping to bed and drifting off to sleep.

《 _'Sweet dreams pussy cat.'_ 》

In the night, Jaskier clambered from his bed and snuck over to Geralt's room, slipping into bed with the larger Witcher.

Geralt hummed, curling against Jaskier, wrapping himself around him. "I was hoping you'd come back." He whispered before drifting back to sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A light warning for some heavy subject matter in bits of this chapter

Geralt woke in the morning, face snuggled into Jaskier's neck. He hummed happily, nosing along the Cat's shoulder, breathing in the faint scent of lavender.

Jaskier stirred when he felt Geralt's nose along his skin, a soft whine leaving him as he dug his claws into the other Witcher's chest.  
"Don't wanna get up yet," he grumbled softly, burying his face against Geralt.

Geralt laughed, letting himself pull away a little bit. "I have to get up though. Chores to do." He hummed, running his hand through curls. "You can stay here, rest all you'd like. Come down for breakfast in a little while?"

"But I don't want you to get up yet either..." he frowned, scooting himself closer to Geralt, clinging to him.  
"Just a little longer? Pretty please?" He whimpered, nuzzling against the man's chest, nosing against him and breathing him in.

He smelled like the air during rain, and the lavender in his hair and it was lovely, absolutely.

"Just a little longer." Geralt agreed, settling back down, running his fingers through soft white hair. He was almost sure he'd never be able to deny Jaskier anything.

Jaskier settled and curled against his pup, drifting easily back to sleep in his arms like this, warm and surrounded by such comforting scents and the gentle touch of Geralt's fingers through his curls.  
A soft rumble started in his chest, slow and easy as it had been the first time he made this sound.  
Purring.  
Just for Geralt.  
Something he didn't even know he did, and had never done before.

Geralt sighed, a warmth bubbling up in his chest, not daring to stop moving his fingers through his hair. The sound, just as before, rumbled through the little Witcher's body, soothing his own. 

That soft purr and Geralt knew he was doomed to spend the day in bed if that's what Jaskier had wanted.

On he purred, a strong and steady sound that rumbled in his chest, like a separate heart beat of his own making, brought about by the calming touch and presence of Geralt against him, holding him.  
He felt safe and secure, loved and cared for. How could he not make such a sound especially for this big lovestruck fool?

On he slept, until the sunlight was warm against his skin from the window. Stirring from sleep again, the purring quieted until it stopped, exchanging it for kneading his fingers against Geralt's chest.

"Guess I should let you get up, hm?"

Geralt hummed, having dozed comfortably at the sound. "Now I don't want to get up." He hummed, not mentioning it, afraid that if he did he'd never hear the noise again. 

"But, alright, let me up. I'm sure breakfast is started and there's lots to do." He smiled, nuzzling against Jaskier. "You can stay in bed if you want. No need for you to get up just yet."

"Well I'm certainly not staying in your bed without you here in it too," he huffed, pushing himself to the edge of the bed, letting Geralt up first.

"Make me a promise, hm?" He grabbed the man's hand as he moved to leave bed and get dressed, holding him there a moment. "Promise me we can have a day where we just stay in bed for the whole thing? Fuck chores, fuck training or whatever and just... we can just lay together all day."

Geralt hummed, a dreamy smile on his face as he nodded. "I think I would like that very, very much." He growled low, letting Jaskier hold him close.

The low rumbling growl brought a shiver through him, a flush to his cheeks as he smiled, pressing Geralt's hand to his lips before gently pushing him away.

"Alright, good. Then I can, in good conscience, let you go and get dressed and do what you have to do for today," he hummed, pushing himself to his feet. "I should go get dressed then, too."

Geralt hummed, watching Jaskier get up. "Wait! I... I don't know if this is something you want to hear but... you're beautiful in the mornings." He smiled, feeling his cheeks heat, looking back down to his feet. 

"That's all... I just wanted you to know that." He hummed, turning away and moving to his dresser.

Jaskier cheeks flushed and he froze there a moment, blinking as he looked to Geralt, let those words settle into his ears.  
He was beautiful in the mornings?

"You're beautiful all the time, my sweet pup," he hummed in return, a gentle tease to how he said it, but he had slipped from the room before he could wait to hear if Geralt would adjust his words.

Back in his own room, Jaskier stripped from his nightgown and bound down his chest before pulling on a pair of cornflower blue breeches, a white chemise and a matching cornflower blue doublet which he, of course, left unbuttoned at the top.

Satisfied with his look, he moved from his room.

Geralt was dressed comfortably. Warm black trousers and a linen shirt, waiting in the hall for Jaskier. "You always dress like you have somewhere to go." He laughed, looking him over. He really did dress nice.

"Well I'm sorry! I don't _have_ what you would consider suitable lounge clothes, because we Cats can lounge in anything and anywhere we so choose to," he huffed, a pout.  
"You could lend me some of your lounge clothes sometime if you're so put out by how I dress," he added and, gods, for a moment he really hoped Geralt would agree. Would turn right around and grab Jaskier some loose fitting clothes that smelled of cedar and iron and rain.

"You are always more than welcome to anything in my closet." Geralt offered, not knowing if he could handle the sight of that. 

"I'd hate for such lovely clothes to get damaged. You don't have anyone here to impress, though I think Lambert would love to talk about your clothes." He laughed, reaching out to feel his doublet. "He does love clothes. Would never tell him this but he can dress damn good too."

Jaskier smiled softly and leaned up to bump his nose to Geralt's chin. "Oh you're in for it now dearheart – I am so borrowing your clothes! We are bound for a spar today and, you're right, I wouldn't want my clothes to get damaged–"  
Even though he could very easily sew them back to fixed should anything happen.

"What are you willing to part with for a day?"

He could just wear his armor, as it was fit for such a thing as sparring, but... this would be far more interesting a turn of events.

"Anything you'd like. I'm not sure I hold too much value to anything in particular." Geralt hummed, wanting to be surprised. 

"Help yourself. I'm going to head to do my chores, and I'll see you in a little while?"

With a soft smile, Jaskier nodded and caressed Geralt's cheek, dragging a finger down and along his jaw.  
"Don't let your brothers tease you too much about your beautiful braids. Or, if they do, let them know I'll be all too happy to have a spar with them, too, later this afternoon," he hummed, bumping his nose to Geralt's chin smiling to him before he turned and slipped into the Wolf's room.

He definitely didn't have much in way of variety, so Jaskier grabbed one of Geralt's black linen shirts. He moved back to his own room, changing.

When he arrived to the kitchen a bit later, it was in black breeches that hugged his legs, and the borrowed black shirt, hung off one shoulder. His eyes were lined in kohl, the little wings at the side of each eye, and his lips were painted that lovely red Geralt seemed to love.

"Morning boys," he hummed.

Geralt watched Jaskier, his heart beating faster. The sight of him in his clothes would have been enough to send his heart soaring, but seeing his eyes lined, that beautiful blue standing out even more than usual, and the red of his lips was just too much. "Jaskier?" He asked mouth a little dry at the sight of him. 

The others looked up, their hearts going faster as well. Tight pants and a loose shirt, hanging off his shoulder just a peek was enough to get any man interested. And he looked oh so good in black. 

Lambert was the first to chime in. "You look lovely this morning, kitty Cat. Must have had a good nights rest."

Blue eyes traced over each of the Wolves, so clearly at his mercy right now, if their fast beating hearts and the scent of interest and arousal on the air was anything to go by.

"As a matter of fact, I did sleep rather well, thank you for noticing Lambert, dear. Lavender has that wonderful effect, you know, helping one to relax enough that sleep comes easier," he hummed, moving to join them all at the high table, his eyes settling on Geralt, pupils going a bit round.

"And what of you all, then? Sleep well? Ready to start another day?" He hummed, moving his gaze around the room to the other wolves, still smiling himself. "I had plans for a little sparring today, if anyone is up to the challenge."

Geralt looked back to Jaskier, his own pupils round before turning to slits as he looked between his brothers, even Vesemir. 

"You do owe me an ass kicking, you did promise." Lambert winked across to Jaskier.

Geralt looked to Eskel, who was now pouring his dear Cat a cup of tea. "Doesn't hurt to have a new sparring partner. Especially one with a different fighting style. Like to see what you can do." He hummed, looking him over slowly.

_Ooohhh_ the harsh tang of jealousy wafting off of Geralt was so good. He had known looking this way would get his pup's attentions, but he hadn't quite calculated in that all the other Wolves might pique interest as well.  
...and of them all, Vesemir was the one to have come the closest to intimacy with him.

"I'll be all too happy to put you in your place, my dear," he hummed, returning the wink to Lambert, and smiling at Eskel. "And I'd be more than happy to let you learn a thing or two from me, Eskel – thank you dear," he hummed, bringing the tea to his lips, just watching the Wolves curiously.

It was like shaking a hornet's nest, watching the way Geralt bristled, heart beating quickly with his interest and his possessive jealousy.

Geralt felt hurt, watching the interest in Jaskier's eyes. The way he flirted with his brothers and they way they looked at him. 

What if Jaskier was more interested in them than he was in him? Was he not attractive? Is that what it was? Was he not being vocal enough with his love? Taking things too slow? He started to worry that Jaskier might lose interest in him, or that he simply didn't want him physically.

He'd never want to give up what they had already, but he was almost sure any of his brothers, even Vesemir, could be emotionally supportive.

As he joked with Lambert and spoke with Eskel, the sharp spike of pain in the room hit him like a dagger through the chest. His words caught in his throat and he turned his attentions to Geralt, and the look he saw in those beautiful eyes nearly broke him, then and there.

He got up swiftly, a quick and graceful motion, and in a blink he was at Geralt's side, touching his fingers lightly against the man's neck before he leaned in and nuzzled his jaw.  
"No reason to be jealous, my sweet, this is all for only you," he breathed, so only his pup could hear his words as he bumped his nose to Geralt's neck.

It was flattering that he could rile the others so, but Geralt was who he wanted, and it didn't do to make him hurt.

Geralt felt his eyes water, leaning in to Jaskier a little before pulling away, looking down at his food, embarrassed for getting so worked up in front of his brothers. 

"I'm ok." He forced a smile, giving Jaskier's hand a squeeze. "Eat your breakfast if you're going to be sparring with my brothers today." He pointed to his bowl, listening to the others at the table start talking about something else.

"Oh, don't you give me that," he breathed, reaching to grip Geralt's chin, making their eyes meet, Jaskier's pupils going immediately a bit more rounded. "I'm sparring you today too, my love," he hummed, bumping their noses.

He couldn't understand where Geralt's hurt was coming from, couldn't understand why, even now, he could taste it like coppers under his tongue. He hated that forced smile, those wet eyes... He wanted to take it all away and make it better, help his pup to see that, even if he couldn't actually, verbally, put it in so many words, he loved Geralt, not his brothers and not Vesemir.

"And since we're doing that, you better get yourself ready to face me."

Geralt let a little smile spread on his face. "I have a little advantage. I've seen you fight, but you and Lambert have money on it. Fight him first." He bumped against him gently, his heart still really not in it. "I'll be down in a bit."

Jaskier's eyes went a little sad, his heart echoing the ache he could feel coming from Geralt, amplifying itself until his whole body felt numb and cold and he just wanted to run, to get away, but also to stay, to cling to his stupid wolf and shake him. Tell him how important he was, how special, how much Jaskier needed and wanted only him.

...but it wasn't the time, nor the place.

"You better be there to watch me take him down," he breathed, brushing his thumb over Geralt's cheek, leaning his forehead against the other Witcher's, partially in hopes that this big fool would somehow gain transference of his thoughts and just _KNOW_ this ache was foolish.  
Partially because, now that the ache had infected his body as well, he needed to feel Geralt's closeness.

Knowing he would get nothing further out of Geralt, Jaskier moved back around the table to finish his food and his tea.

"Of course I'll be there. I'm just as excited to watch Lambert get his ass kicked as everyone else. And I know you'll look flawless while doing it." Geralt smiled to him before getting up and going to do his chores he'd neglected in the morning. 

Vesemir shot Jaskier a reassuring smile, knowing Geralt would be fine in a little while. 

Just a little after noon, they had made their way through their chores and went down to the training grounds, ready to play a little. Geralt stood on one of the upper levels, watching them below. He waved to Jaskier when he saw him.

While the Wolves had all gone off to do some neglected chores, Jaskier had returned to his room to work on jotting down the music he had been working on in his own head recently. He played a little, and when it reached midday, he pushed himself from his papers to move to the training grounds.

Jaskier smiled up at Geralt, waving back, happy to see him looking a little better than earlier.

"Alright Lambert, you ready? No holding back on me, now, because I certainly am not planning to hold back on you."

"Wouldn't dream of it, kitty Cat." Lambert laughed, stretching a little before reaching for a practice sword. "Go on then, everyone's waiting." He teased, going on the defensive.

The others watched on, waiting for one of them to make a move. Even Geralt, who had seen Jaskier fight before, wasn't quite sure what to expect.

Jaskier's eyes narrowed as he took up the practice sword he had picked out – a shorter sword than the others, the closest he would get to an actual short-sword here with the Wolves it seemed. And they certainly didn't have daggers he could use.

He twirled the blade experimentally in his hands, a smile curling up the corners of his lips.

"You're all built for power and strength, brute force," he hummed, dashing at Lambert with speed he hadn't shown to Geralt, typically only used for his solo fights against beasts. In a blink, he was behind Lambert, wicked grin on his lips, pupils so narrow.

"Come and play, pup."

Lambert turned quickly, rolling to keep Jaskier in front of him. He wasn't sure he trusted him at his back just yet. 

"Come on then. Come at me!" He yelled. "Unless you're a scaredy cat?"

"Don't get cocky now, Wolf," he hissed, baring his teeth as he lunged for Lambert, feigning left as his attack came from the right.  
"Because as it seems to me–" Another lunge, from the right this time, claws instead of the practice blade, not even waiting to hear if the first blow had landed.

Lambert growled, lashing out, swinging his sword around to Jaskier. "UGH!" He grunted out, turning to kick at him. 

"Patience Wolf!" Vesemir called over, knowing him to be a better Witcher than that. "Take your time this is only practice."

Jaskier flattened himself to the ground, having bent backwards seeing the flash of anger in the Wolf's eyes. Lambert's foot managed to clip his chin, sending pain blossoming through him and bringing a prickling of tears to his eyes.  
But the pain only stirred him on, pushing himself up from the ground to launch himself at Lambert, that smile coming back to his lips. Claws first, then sword this time, not feeling like adding teeth to the mix just yet would be a good idea.  
These Wolves barely trusted him as it was, and he didn't blame them.

Geralt leaned forward, running his hands along the stone to calm himself. He was worried about Jaskier getting hurt, knowing that blow to his chin would bruise. 

Lamber grabbed Jaskier by the back of his shirt pulling him away from him. "Fucker!" He growled, touching where he'd been scratched, feeling blood prickle.

The Cat smirked, dangling there a bit in Lambert's grasp, only to lash out with claws again, to the arm holding him so the larger Witcher would release him.

"Tit for tat, sweet thing, tit for tat," he hummed, letting himself drop gracefully to the ground, only to round his way around Lambert, kicking out at his legs in hopes of bringing him to the ground.

He could hear Geralt's heart, above the others. Rabbit quick and his breaths were filled with the worry that would surely be in his eyes if Jaskier looked up to him.

Lambert grunted as he hit the ground, looking up and groaning, quickly rolling to the side to get his feet back under him.

He was quick enough to avoid Jaskier's claws, unfortunately, the Cat's eyes trailing his movements quickly and changing his course to swing at Lambert with his short-sword instead.

"What's the matter pup, not having fun anymore? No more taunting, teasing words?"

Lambert groaned, looking up at the smaller Witcher. He certainly had underestimated him. "You're tease enough, don't you think?" He laughed, pushing himself up.

"Oh, is that so? Me, a tease?" He grinned, his gaze flashing up to Geralt a moment, winking at him.  
"Perhaps a little," he hummed, backing up, letting Lambert get his bearings, figure himself out.

"Come now, this isn't all you've got, is it?"

"Yeah, bet you haven't even looked at Geralt's cock, huh? But you come parading around, trying to get us all worked up with your pretty lips. Come on then, when I win, you have to give me a big kiss! Right here." Lambert tapped his cheek. He knew pissing the Cat off was the best way to win the fight.

His pupils narrowed dangerously, muscles tightening a little. He wanted to rip this baggy shirt off of himself, really go at this cocky Wolf and beat him into the ground for even–

His grip tightened around the handle of his sword, his other hand balling into a fist as he lunged, sword aimed for his leg, claws aimed right at the fucking spot where he tapped on his cheek.

"I wasn't parading for your benefit, mutt. Contrary to what you evidently think in your thick wolfy brain, not every little thing is about you, precious," he growled, aiming to knock Lambert back to the ground so he could pounce on him, threaten him with a real weapon – his hidden dagger, always strapped to him.

Lambert's eyes went wide at the sight of a real weapon, holding his hands up. "Woah woah!" He cried out. "Stop! I'm sorry!"

Geralt was tempted to jump from the landing, pull Jaskier off him, but he wanted to trust him. Wanted him to know he trusted him. He held his breath, relaxing when he saw his Cat stop his movement.

Jaskier sucked in a breath, stopping his dagger, though it still pointed dangerously at the Wolf beneath him.  
He could hear Geralt's heart pounding could hear him hold his breath, even as far up as he was. He was worries, just for a moment. Worried Jaskier wouldn't stop, wouldn't hold back.  
To be entirely fair, he had contemplated not holding back, for the briefest of moments as well.

"Yes, I do believe you are," he hummed, tilting his head, looking over the other Witcher. He jumped up, offering his hand down to Lambert to take, to help him back to his feet.

Lambert took Jaskier's hand, smiling up at him, catching his breath. "Good fight, kitty. Scared me there for a minute."

"That was entirely the intention, dear," he hummed, giving him a sweet smile before bringing his knee up, _HARD_ , into Lambert's groin, looking up at Geralt as he did so.

"Next time you fight your brothers, don't you dare go for the cheap shots or I'll take you out again. Do we understand each other?"

Lambert gripped at Jaskier's shoulders, trying to balance himself as the wind was knocked out of him. The others laughed, knowing the Wolf got what was coming to him. 

Geralt smiled, crossing his arms, shaking his head. He'd enjoyed the little display of dominance, knowing his kitten would come out on top. Now that was out of the way, a little friendly sparring could be done, Eskel laughing as he pulled his brother to the side to sit and watch. "Lick your wounds now. You deserved that. You might be the favorite, but you're still a brat." He teased.

Pleased with himself, and even happier knowing that the others weren't angry at him for his actions, he tilted his head.  
"Want to go against me now, Eskel?" He asked quietly, smiling to him. "Promise I won't take cheap shots against you. Not unless you start taking them first."

Eskel smiled wide, looking the Cat over. "No cheap shots, I'll be a good boy." He teased, coming back out. "Balls of steel on you anyway, I'm sure I'd hurt myself." He laughed, grabbing a practice sword. "Like for you to show me what you do with those daggers. Might be a good idea to learn."

Geralt smiled, watching them both. He was right, wouldn't hurt to learn a new technique. Could be a fun way to pass the time.

The irony of his statement was lost to all except himself and possibly to Vesemir as he chuckled, pulling his dagger from his back, twirling it.

"You sure? These practice blades may be slightly dulled, but my daggers are sharper than sharp, sweetness. If the both of us aren't careful, I could do some real damage," he furrowed his brow, tilting his head. "But... if you're still willing, I'll teach you a thing or two about finesse."

"What's a little blood between friends?" Eskel grinned, moving to look at Jaskier's blades. He looked back to Geralt before stepping closer. 

Geralt was glad to see Jaskier getting along with his brothers, though that self doubt still lingered low in his stomach. Worried he wasn't enough for Jaskier. Worried that he'd change his mind once he was comfortable again.

"When you're covered in little slices, courtesy of a very precise kitty, don't cry to me," he huffed, though he knew he would help to treat the wounds he had inflicted, without question.

"Come at me with all you've got, sweet thing," he hummed, winking playfully at Eskel, freeing his other dagger from the twin sheath at his hip.

"No way! Show me how to use this thing first!" Eskel laughed, letting himself relax a moment. 

Geralt smiled, standing up and going to go make himself busy. He could get a lesson later. He was feeling a little too jealous right now to watch. Libraries needed dusting anyway. Dishes done and dinner started. He could let them have their fun.

Jaskier laughed, shaking his head. He stepped back from Eskel, showing him steps, showing him how to work with the blade, not overly different from how one would use their sword. All blades were an extension of ones own self, ones own intentions. He showed Eskel how to throw them, as well, happy to be teaching someone what he knew about the stealth blades.

He noticed Geralt's absence, but tried not to let it bother him, or worry him, but he was sure it showed in his face, in his voice.  
He knew Geralt was... worried. He was jealous that Jaskier would gravitate towards one of his brothers, or even Vesemir, instead of him, and while the Cat knew that to be a foolish thought, he didn't blame Geralt for having it.  
He hadn't been very...forthcoming with affection with his poor pup..  
Tonight, maybe... maybe he could make a step forward.

Geralt was quiet, not taking dinner with his brothers, claiming he wasn't used to eating so much. Which was partially true. 

It was getting late, his brothers already having headed to bed for the night. He sighed, still soaking in the baths just letting himself over think. Eskel was the handsomest and he and Jaskier seemed to be getting along quite well already. Lambert seemed to make him mad, but he could grow on anyone. And Vesemir... well they had already established a relationship. 

He knew it was stupid, but he couldn't help but worry. He'd never been anyone's first choice, afraid Jaskier would leave him too.

When Geralt did not show for dinner, and when he did not find the man in his room, Jaskier grabbed his nightgown and moved to the baths, following his Wolf's scent.

He knocked quietly before stepping inside, closing the door behind him and leaning against it.

"You left during the training and... then you didn't come to dinner," he murmured, worrying his lip.  
"Did I upset you...?"

Geralt jumped at the sound of Jaskier's voice, smiling up at him, though it didn't reach his eyes. "No. Not at all." He looked back down into the water, thinking a minute. 

"Upset myself. I'm a stupid pup, remember?" He asked, a quiet breath of a laugh. "Just over thinking, nothing for you to worry about."

Jaskier sighed, looking over his poor pup, shaking his head. His own heart beat a bit quicker than Geralt's, and above all the lovely smells of the oils used here, he could smell that bitterness of Geralt's upset.

He understood overthinking, more than anyone else probably ever could. It was part of a Cat's nature to overthink, overanalyze, overemote. It was built into his very being, his mutation.

"You're not allowed to call yourself a stupid pup," he huffed, pulling his shirt up and over his head, exposing the tight bindings underneath. "Only I'm allowed to poke at you in such a way, because when I say it, I say it with fondness and I don't mean the harsh words," he added, working on unlacing his breeches.

Geralt watched Jaskier undress, seeing his chest wrapped tightly before realizing and looking away. "Something happen to your chest, kitten? Are you hurt?" He asked, wondering if he'd bruised his ribs earlier. 

Should be able to smell that though, right? 

"Having a bath then?" He asked, a little nervous. Jaskier had seen him naked plenty of times, but his kitten always kept his clothes on, barely the sight of a shoulder. He couldn't blame himself for a little interest at the thought.

"No, not hurt. Not in my chest, anyway. I always wear this," he replied carefully, slipping free from his breeches, folding them neatly before moving over to the tub.

When he was sure he was within Geralt's line of sight again, he started to carefully unwind the bindings around his chest, letting out a heavy breath when his lungs were set free.

"Mind if I... join you? The tubs are rather big, I've found. Make me feel small in them," he murmured, trying to seem nonchalant about it, trying not to put too much emphasis of attention to his now being naked in front of Geralt, exposed in a way he hadn't been in a while.

The air was heavy with Geralt's interest, masking some of that hurt that had made Jaskier's mouth taste bitter.

Geralt looked up to Jaskier with wide eyes, excited to be joined, pulling his knees to himself. 

"Oh!" He breathed, finally looking him over before meeting his eyes. 

"You have the weirdest cock I've ever seen." He teased, watching the irritation slide onto his face.

Jaskier huffed, swatting the back of Geralt's head as he carefully stepped into the warm water with the other Witcher.

"Yes, my weird cock and my balls of steel," he grumbled, his cheeks warm as he rolled his eyes, settling into the water, wrapping his arms around his chest.

"I know I'm... probably not what you were expecting..." he murmured quietly, worrying over his distinct lack of male parts and his abundance of scars. Scars, of course, every Witcher had a good smattering of those, and yet he still found a way to feel ashamed for his own.

"I'm...sorry I didn't tell you sooner..."

"You always seem to have a way with being more than I expected." Geralt chuckled, keeping his voice low.

He understood the importance of this. Not only just being naked around him, laid bare, but sharing this secret of his. It felt sacred. 

"It's not like it matters." He whispered, trying to meet Jaskier's eyes though he keep his head down. "Hey, Jaskier, look at me."

His eyes were watery when he finally looked up to Geralt, worrying at his bottom lip as he searched the other man's face.

He couldn't handle it if Geralt rejected him now, but he needed to show the silly pup that he was special, that he was important and that above all else, Jaskier was trying to trust him, trying to love him. Baby steps.  
It's all he could truly offer, but... but this was okay, wasn't it? He was really actually trying and–

"It's why he called me that. _'Pussy cat'_. It's all he saw me for, I realize that now, on the other side of it all. He only ever– so when you called me that, when Lambert did, too, I just..." he bit his lip again, feeling tears slip down his cheeks.

"...but I wanted you to know. Needed you to, because how can I show you that I'm trying to learn to trust you, trying to...open my heart to you if I would have kept this big secret from you?"

"Hey..." Geralt breathed, taking Jaskier's hands in his own, running his nose along his palm. 

"This changes nothing to me, Jaskier." He whispered, nuzzling against him, keeping his voice soft. His own eyes watering, knowing his kitten was terrified of rejection. "At least not in a way you're thinking." He smiles at him, his heart beating a little faster. 

"Thank you for trusting me. Thank you for sharing, but don't feel like you had to. This isn't the big secret you think it is. You could have shown me years from now and I would have felt the same." He pushed a kiss to his wrist before holding his hand against his cheek. 

"You're still the same Jaskier I know and love. That doesn't change."

His own heart nearly stopped as he sat there in the tub with his pup, listening to his words and then–

"You love me...?" He asked quietly, his voice trembling.

~~_'No one will ever love a fucked up Cat like you, pussy cat. It's why you were given up to be a Witcher, it's why you were so desperate for me! Because no one could ever love a creature like you.'_ ~~

"I– but you can't– ...how long?" He asked, looking up at Geralt to search his face, to see the truth in his eyes when he spoke it, whatever it was. His own heart felt ready to burst from his ribcage it was beating so quickly.

_He loves me?  
Geralt, my beautiful wonderful stupid pup, loves me?_

"You've been so... upset recently. I've been able to smell it. It's awful and bitter and its definitely mixed with jealousy and Geralt– my beautiful, dumb puppy, I needed you to know you have nothing and no-one to be jealous of."

"How long?" Geralt laughed, like a weight lifting off his chest. "Don't know. It just happened over time I guess, but I know I do." He smiled, letting his eyes linger on that beautiful sea blue or Jaskier's. 

"And I just... I don't know. You kind of have that doubt in your head as a Witcher, you know? If my mother couldn't even love me, who could." He shrugged, knowing the feeling was universal for everyone. 

"But I do, love you, Jaskier. Slowly and it grows. And I know you trust me. Its why you're here and why you're... here with me now. I just hope that someday you could love me back." He hummed, relaxing against Jaskier's hand, letting their knees rest together. 

"But I want you to take your time. Only when you're ready, however long that takes."

A part of him was afraid he would never be ready, or that he would force himself to be ready because of impatience to feel Geralt's love full force. If he forced it, it could be disastrous, and could set all his progress backwards. If he waited and it took forever for him to work through all of the bullshit in his head and all these tangled thorn bushes of feelings... Geralt could tire of him, could leave him for someone who is ready to accept and share in his love.

The hand not held against Geralt curled into a fist, digging claws into his palm where little half moon scars were pulled open.

"I hate that I'm...so fucking afraid," he breathed, gritting his words out past his teeth. "I hate it. I just... but I can't just jump in, can't just let myself love you and I hate that, too, because I want to, because I feel it, but I... some stupid protective part of my fucked up brain won't let me act on that, won't let me just–" he closed his eyes and huffed out a breath, flexing his fingers.

Why couldn't he have met Geralt first? Why couldn't Fate have given them each other before all of this, before Jaskier became a mess that no one in their right mind should want or have the patience to wait for to unwind.

"I can't give you those words, but I can give you this, and I can give you a 'I'm trying' and hope that it's enough... I'm trying for _you_ , pup, just to be clear. Not for your brothers or for Vesemir..."

That was something they needed to talk about...

"And that's more than enough for me, I promise you." Geralt smiled, leaning forward just a bit, taking both Jaskier's hands now. 

"I'm afraid I'm always going to doubt myself. Especially when it comes to you." He breathed a laugh, looking down sadly. "You're beautiful, Jaskier. You're strong and funny, and I'm not just saying these things. You just... I'm worried you'll realize you're too good for me."

"My silly dumb darling," he hummed, shaking his head as he leaned in close, bumping their noses together gently. "If anyone is too good for anyone else, you should know that it is you who is too good for me," he smiled, a little darkness entering his gaze.  
"But I'm a being of selfish desires and I don't give a damn that you're far too good for me. I want you, and seeing as you share the feeling, you're mine and I don't plan on letting go anytime soon."

Unless... Unless of course Geralt found someone else. He would accept that, and bow out. Would still of course be there for Geralt as a friend but...

"Good. We agree on something then." Geralt smiled, feeling much better than he did earlier. 

"I'm yours." He agreed, leaving it at that, relaxing against the side of the tub again. Still holding Jaskier's hand. 

"You did look fantastic this morning by the way." He added, a cheeky little smirk on his face.

"In your loose fitting black shirt and my tight fitting black breeches?" He asked, raising a brow as he turned himself in the tub, moving back so he could rest between Geralt's legs.

"Or did you mean particularly with the kohl lining my eyes and the red stain to my lips? I noticed the way your heart beat quickly for it last time, so I couldn't help but add it as a little tease for you this morning," he hummed happily, leaning his head back, bumping his nose to Geralt's jaw.

 _His._  
Gods, that had a nice ring to it.  
Geralt, being his.  
_I'm yours_ , he said, and he sounded to mean it.

~~_'You're all mine, aren't you pussy cat? All mine to touch and to hold, to tease and to fuck and to rely on... How'd I get so lucky?'_ ~~

"You do look very good with your lips painted." Geralt agreed, wrapping his arms around Jaskier's chest, resting his chin on his shoulder. "And the black makes your eyes stand out. I've never seen a Witcher with such pretty eyes." He hummed, his heart was beating surprisingly steady. He was so comfortable here with Jaskier, so happy around him. 

"And in my shirt, you're not that much smaller than me, but you're just shaped so different." He smiled, breathing his skin in. Fresh grass and tree bark. He smelt like honey and lavender, something darker. "Leaner."

"It's like I said on the training field – you Wolves are built for sheer power and brute force, but Cats, we're trained for strength sure, and the mutations help with that, but we were trained for finesse. To be smaller, sleeker, quicker than other Witchers and the monsters we fight. To be better than human assassins," he grinned, closing his eyes.

The steady beat of Geralt's heart was a comfort, his strong scent of cedar, rain and iron mixing well with the scent of lavender from the bath.

"You like it now, hm? The lavender? You didn't used to smell so strongly of it, but... I've noticed you use the scent even when I'm not with you, now."

"I like it. Wasn't really one to use oils when I bath but..." Geralt felt his cheeks heat up, a little embarrassed to admit it. 

"Makes me think of you. You always use it." He admitted. "Scents are strong associations for me. And you've always smelled of lavender."

"It helps me relax, helps me sleep," he hummed, reaching up to brush his fingers against Geralt's cheek, feeling the warmth that accompanied the sickeningly sweet smell of embarrassment on his pup.

"The smell has honestly become a comfort to me, too, so... I'm glad you've taken to it so well. It's lovely on you."

Sitting in the bath like this, he was 't sure why he had taken so long to do this, to let this happen. Geralt's hands did not roam–they never did–and his touches were soft and gentle, his words kind and sweet.

Geralt laughed, giving him a squeeze. "No more stinky mutt?" He hummed, nuzzling against his neck. 

He smiled against his skin, thinking a minute. "Want to come to bed with me tonight?" He asked, hesitating a minute. "I always wake up to you, but I'd like to fall asleep with you too. I understand if you want some space tonight, this was huge."

The smile that came from the 'stinky mutt' comment fell at his wolf's question, his heart hammering heavily. "Uhm... I..."

He did always end up in Geralt's bed anyway... He slept better in the man's bed than alone in the one that was 'his', so starting off the night in his bed wasn't... such a stretch of an ask.  
But his overactive thinking kicked in.  
What if, now that Geralt knew him without his clothes, he wanted more while they lay there?  
Would he be able to tell Geralt no? He'd never been able to turn Gweld down or away, and he cared more for Geralt already than he did for Gweld...

"Yes. Yes, I'll... come to bed with you. I'll try it."

Geralt hummed happily. "Good, because I want to spend more time with you, but I'm going to fall asleep in the tub if I stay here any longer." He gave him another squeeze before moving his hands to the side of the tub.

Jaskier scrambled to clean himself and then douse himself with water before climbing up from the tub to allow Geralt out of it. "Do you have your night clothes to change into or...?" He asked as he dried off and pulled his nightgown on, gathering his discarded clothes into his arms.

He should have said no. Should have just slipped into his bed later like he always did instead–

No.  
No, this was fine. He was going to be fine. Geralt wouldn't hurt him or take advantage of him and... and everything would be just fine.  
Lovely, even, to be able to fall asleep with Geralt from the start instead of crawling into his bed later.

"They're back in the room." Geralt shook his head, getting out and wrapping the towel around himself. 

"It'll only take me a minute to change." He smiled, offering his hand out for Jaskier. "If you've changed your mind, you'll only hurt my feelings a little bit." He teased lightly.

_Guilt._  
He felt his stomach drop before he could process enough to school the expression on his face, but if he was lucky, Geralt won't have noticed the shift. Won't have noticed the momentary lapse of that happy, nervous smile into a heart wrenching guilt.

He wanted to curl into himself, to pull his hand away, but instead he reached it out and took Geralt's hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze as he pretended to be fine, that Geralt's words hadn't hit him a certain way.

"Not like I haven't seen you without clothes," he murmured absently, trying to cut through his own tension.

"I was only joking." Geralt turned to look at Jaskier, walking at a comfortable pace. "You won't hurt me any if you'd rather not come with me. I think you've shared so much with me today." He looked to him, eyes soft and pupils round. 

"No need to look so upset. And if I ever... just let me know if something upsets you, yeah?"

When had he become such an open book to his silly pup?

"Just because you've... seen me without my clothes now, nothing's changed you said, so... so we can just curl together like we usually do when I slip into your bed and...and you'll just hold me there, right? You won't–" he bit his lip, following Geralt, looking down at his feet, even when he feels those warm eyes looking to him, molten gold.

"You won't touch me anywhere that you don't usually, just because you know what's there now, right...?"

He hates that he asks.  
Hates that he can't just trust the feeling in his chest that says, of course Geralt would never use him that way.  
...but it's so deeply ingrained in him now.  
He is a tool– for pleasure or for pain, in depends entirely on the receiving party.

The question made Geralt nauseous. The fact that it even had to be asked, not because of him, not at all. But because of what other people have done to him. 

"Never." He stated, plain and simple. 

"Jaskier, I will never touch you if you don't want to be touched. I will never expect anything from you just because I've seen you undressed. When I said it changes nothing, I meant that." He grabbed his shoulders, looking him in the eyes. 

"I was just as attracted to you before as I am now and I feel the same way... maybe a little fonder. But I will never take what you don't want to give me."

His eyes welled with tears and by the gracious gods if he wasn't getting absolutely fucking tired of crying and feeling sorry for himself.

Geralt is a good man, a better Witcher, and the best Wolf. _His_ Wolf.

His pupils go round as he looked at Geralt, simply nodding, not trusting his own voice for the moment, so he just reaches up and cups Geralt's cheek. His smile is soft and fond as he bumped his nose to his pup's nose, nuzzling him.

"You are unbelievably perfect, my sweet pup. So patient and soft, sweet and kind...what have I possibly done to deserve you in my life?" He asked quietly, meaning it.

He was a trained assassin. He killed people, innocent and not. He killed one of Geralt's brothers. Killed many a creature. He stole things– not just the books he had admitted to to Geralt. He was in no easy terms _'good'_.  
...and yet here his sweet pup was.

"You had to go ahead and have the guts to have a mug as pretty as that. And a brain twice as lovely." Geralt bumped their noses together before stepping back, leading the way back to his room. "And a tongue thrice as mean." He grinned, opening the door for Jaskier, letting him in.

He could never hurt Jaskier. Part of his personal rules. Never attack something that doesn't attack first. And he really doubted his sweet kitten ever would. Not on purpose anyway.

"I rather think it was rhetorical, sweet thing," he huffed, cheeks warm as he stepped into Geralt's room and moved directly for his bed, releasing the man's hand so he may dress himself or dry himself, both, even.

"My tongue is that mean, hm? Suppose I have used it quite a bit for insults around you, and often in your playful direction... not that you ever seem to mind overly much."

"Hmm? Why would I mind when that's one of the reasons I fell for you so hard?" Geralt asked, pulling a shirt on before grabbing a loose fitting pair of trousers. 

"Don't be getting soft on me now, kitten." He teased, climbing into bed. "I remember threats of having claws to my belly."

"Oh there will always be threats of claws to your belly... just when you least expect it, and those claws aren't always going to be sharpened to maim," he chuckled softly, waiting for Geralt to settle before curling beside him.

"Loopholes in threats," he hummed, showing off that particular loophole by kneading his fingers against Geralt's stomach, his chest. It was a comforting gesture and, technically, claws were to Geralt's belly.

Geralt laughed, grabbing at Jaskier's hands on his belly. "Come on, don't do that! It tickles." He groaned, pulling his hands to his chest and holding them there.

Blue eyes, rounded pupils, look up to Geralt with a small smile curling his lips.

"Oh-ho~ So you're ticklish, are you pup? How cute~" he cooed happily, leaning forward fo bump his nose to Geralt's chin. "And where else are you ticklish, hm? Feet, maybe? Behind the knee? Under the arms?"

"Oh no! You think I'll tell you!?" Geralt cried, reaching his hands down to Jaskier's belly, wiggling his fingers there. "Are kitties ticklish?"

Jaskier stole one of the hands wiggling fingers at his belly and brought it to his mouth, biting down on squirmy fingers.

"Not ticklish! Sensitive and bitey," he grumbled, but the sound barely concealed the smile that tugged at his lips.

He wasn't letting himself think about how, things actually were very different. They never played around like this when he had come in before, it was right back to comforting sleep, just with a strong, warm arm around him.

"Ow! Little creep!" Geralt barked a laugh, pulling Jaskier close, keeping his hands, and teeth, away from him. 

"That's enough of that." He grinned, laughing happily against him.

"What did you expect!" He pouted, burying his face against Geralt's chest with a muffled laugh. "A kitty's belly is very much a trap– if it is open and exposed to you, you will be tempted to touch, to rub, to tickle! But! Should you do any of these, you risk losing precious fingers in the process!" He laughed again, nuzzling his face against Geralt's chest, breathing him in.

"I've never touched a cat before!" Geralt cried out in playful agony. "Their fuzzy little bellies are completely illusive to me. They hiss and growl, you're the only one who's gotten sweet on me." He smiled, burying a hand in Jaskier's damp hair.

As soon as that hand is in his damp hair, Jaskier seemed to go boneless, pliant. He loved the weight of it in his hair, against his head. It was so warm and perhaps a little bit possessive.

"I hiss and growl too, I'm sure you've heard those sounds from me plenty of times! Just, not in regards to my belly, not yet!"

"Oh, plenty of times." Geralt agreed, relaxing now that Jaskier had. He just laid still, quietly running his fingers through those white curls, just happy to watch him for a little while. So peaceful.

"Get some rest, kitten. We have a whole new day tomorrow."

He didn't take much convincing to drift to sleep, not after the warmth of their shared bath, the lavender, and all the strain of the day, emotional and physical.

With those fingers slipping through his curls as he slept, that now familiar rumble of a purr rose from the Cat's chest as he slept, blissfully content.  
Never had he slept better than in Geralt's arms, and never had he purred before except for Geralt. It was special, and all his, and Jaskier wasn't even aware of it.

Geralt listened to the sound for a short while, drifting to sleep himself. He felt so relaxed with Jaskier, sure he'd never felt so comfortable in his life. The sleep was restful and the time with him made him feel full of light. 

He woke to him, still there in his arms, the sun rising, peeking through the window. He just watched him sleep for a bit, not wanting to wake him, carefully getting up to get dressed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh, I love foreshadowing~♡


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Substance abuse in this chapter  
> ...sort of
> 
> ....you'll see! :3

Bleary eyed, Jaskier sat up on his elbow a little, the warmth and weight of Geralt gone from the bed. He huffed quietly, reaching for the man.

"Come back..." he whined softly, rubbing at one eyes with his hand not reaching for Geralt. "'s too early to be up and productive, unless I'm _Productive_ ," he teased, even in his sleep.

"Shh... go back to sleep." Geralt whispered, running his fingers through his hair, pulling the blankets up over Jaskier. 

"I have to go do my chores today." He laughed, having been tempted yesterday to stay in bed.

Jaskier whined quietly. "But you did your chores yesterday..." he huffed softly in his protest, wriggling under the blankets Geralt had pulled over him.

Gods, they smelled lovely... of the pair of them, together, and Jaskier felt himself ease back onto the bed, soothed and ready for more sleep.  
Curse needing more rest than these Wolves... curse his chores taking him away.

"Its a big keep, Jaskier, lots to do." Geralt hummed softly, amused by the way Jaskier fought against him. "Go back to sleep, kitten. I'll see you later." He whispered, pressing his lips to his forehead.

The soft press of lips to his forehead was enough to make him purr again, already drifting easily back into sleep.

It was a couple hours later when he finally stirred from the bed, pushing himself up and out to stretch and yawn. He looked around the room, remembering where he was and that Geralt was doing chores like a good pup. With a heavy sigh, he moved to his room to get dressed, wearing that loose shirt again with a pair of red breeches, laced up tight.

The keep was rather large, as Geralt had said, but even still it wasn't difficult to find his Wolf among the rest, leaning in the doorway of the room Geralt was currently cleaning.

"Morning pup. Been busy?"

Geralt looked up, turning to smile at the sight in the door way. "Good morning. Well, it's almost afternoon, lazy bones." He teased, standing to stretch.

"Sleep well?"

"Oh hush, you brute," he gruffed, crossing his arms over his chest, making it a little obvious that he hadn't bound himself down as he usually did.  
"Some of us need more than a wink of sleep and meditation during the day does not make up for lack of it, in my case," he grumbled, cheeks a little pink.  
"But, yes... I slept very well, thanks to you."

He felt himself smile a bit shyly.  
It had been the first time he had started out in Geralt's bed and stayed there all night. Nothing changed– Geralt didn't touch him any differently, didn't treat him any less than he had before.  
It was... it was good.  
Really good.

"Hmm so did I." Geralt hummed, leaning against the wall. "I always get the best sleep with you. But last night was so much better. Had no problem falling asleep." He smiled, looking him over. 

"I'm guessing your tummy is what sent you looking for me."

Jaskier grumbled, averting his gaze. "I know how to fend for myself– I'm not a child," he replied, shrugging his shoulders. "My nose is what brought me to you. I'm sure you know it well, everyone has their own unique scent, even under all that lavender you bathed in last night," he hummed, tilting his head.

Geralt laughed, offering his hands out to Jaskier. "I know, I know. Stinky mutt, you always remind me." He teased playfully. 

"Let's go get you something to eat. I could use the break and I would love to have your company. I'm sure Vesemir is going to start looking for a snack soon too."

"You're not stinky!" He exclaimed, grabbing Geralt's hands and giving them a squeeze. "You are when you're covered in monster guts and the like but otherwise you... you smell like the air just before the rain. Like cedarwood trees and like iron and sword oil. ...and now also lavender, but that's besides the point," he smiled fondly, tilting his head. "You smell lovely, outside of hunting beasts," he clarified.

Geralt hummed, pulling Jaskier close. "Even covered in monster guts I think you smell incredible." He teased, giving him a playful squeeze before letting go. 

"Come on, I don't want to find out if you get cranky when you're hungry." He pulled him along to the kitchens, finding Vesemir there. 

"Hello." He greeted them, waiting for water to boil.

Probably for the best, because he was more than sure that he did, in fact, get cranky and cantankerous when he was hungry.

Jaskier smiled happily at Vesemir as he stepped into the kitchen with Geralt.  
"Goodmorning Vesemir," he hummed pleasantly, moving to find something of sustenance that he could eat to satiate his current rumbling hungry stomach.

"Ah! You're up. I was hoping you'd be able to share some potion recipes with me. Doing a little more research on some of the books we'd found at the Feline hold." Vesemir hummed, smiling up at him, watching him dig around before Geralt pushed him over to the table to sit. "Would you like some tea? Make it myself. Helps with digestion." He offered, gesturing to the pot of water.

Geralt made the two of them a small lunch. Just ham sandwiches and some vegetables, pouring them all a cup of tea.

"You took books from Stygga?" He asked, starting in on the food that Geralt made, turning a quiet thank you and a fond smile his way before turning back to Vesemir.  
"Would you care if I look through them, later? I could help you go over some of them and, yes, share some potion recipes with you."

It felt odd, thinking about the Wolves that attacked the Cat School and then... and then what, plundered what knowledge and other items they could from the place that was once his home?  
He wouldn't hold it against Vesemir, or the others here, but... it seemed almost wrong, especially since there were still Cats alive that could use reminders of home.

He sipped at the tea as he ate, an odd fuzzy feeling clouding his mind as he finished up.

"I see that look on your face. Don't judge me, little one." Vesemir smirked at him. "We didn't plunder and steal, we went back to look for any survivors and salvaged what we could before the others came back and destroyed it." 

Geralt smiled to him, watching him eat his lunch. Jaskier was starting to get an odd look in his eye. "Feeling alright, kitten?"

Jaskier blinked a few times, feeling a bit dazed, a bit confused. He finished off his tea, licking his lips as he set the cup down on the table, jumping up at the clink sound it made. His pupils went round, his eyes wide.

His mind was incredibly quiet, unusually so, but the quiet in his head only seemed to amplify the sounds around him, the smells– he shuddered, whining quietly.

"Jaskier?" Geralt asked, tilting his head, leaning in. "Are you alright? What's going on?" He asked, offering his hand out to him.

When the hand was offered out to him, Jaskier stepped over to him, sniffing the air. He took the man's hand and brought it to his face, nuzzling against it with a soft rumbling purr starting in his chest.

Purring.  
While he was awake.

Geralt laughed, feeling his cheeks heat a little. "What's this about? That good a sandwhich?" He smiled, reaching up to run his fingers through his hair. 

It was a little embarrassing to have Vesemir see him like this, but all the same, he did love that sound. And his eyes were so wide and shining.

Jaskier climbed into Geralt's lap, somehow seeming more liquid than man as he wrapped himself around his pup, nuzzling against his jaw. He was still purring, a bit louder now, a bit more obvious as he nosed against Geralt's jaw, nipping at his ear.

His mind was so clear that the only thing going in was the lovely scent of Geralt, the sweet arousal in the air, and the only thing going out was the soft purring.

Geralt gasped at the feeling of teeth at his ear, the pleasant weight of him in his lap, wiggling in a way that was just too good. He let it happen a moment, mind blank before realizing what he was doing. 

He fought himself, deciding between pulling him closer and pushing him off. He'd hate to lose that kitten in his lap, but he'd hate himself so much more if Jaskier changed his mind. Something about it just didn't seem right. So he pushed, wide eyed and looking between Jaskeir and Vesemir. "Jaskier? What are you doing?" He held him at arms length, trying to keep him off his lap. "What did you do to him?" He accused Vesemir, growling at him.

Vesemir stared on, his face a bit warm as he observed the little Cat with Geralt.

"I... the tea. It's catswort, and it tends to have odd effects on actual stray felines, but it's good for–" he cleared his throat, watching as Jaskier tried to press himself back against Geralt, to rub against him best he could while Geralt was holding him away.  
"I didn't even pause to think it might affect him in the same ways! He's not– I, well, I didn't think the Felines were quite so similar as their namesake."

His mistake, clearly, because not only did the catswort have an effect like this, but evidently Jaskier could purr?

Jaskier made soft little noises of protest, trying to move his way against Geralt still, until he smelled something else coming to the kitchen. His pupils narrowed and he turned towards the doorway, lunging at Eskel as he stepped in.

Eskel jumped, going on the defensive while he suddenly had an arm full of Cat, knocking him off balance. He looked up, wide eyed at Geralt, holding his hands up. 

Jaskier was out of Geralt's hands and on Eskel before he even realized he'd moved, or that his brother was in the room. "Well how do we stop it?"

"It wears off eventually, but I can't be certain of how long the effects will last. It's not something I've seen before, not in... beings that aren't actual felines," Vesemir frowned, watching now as Jaskier proceeded to nuzzle Eskel, kneading at his chest before running down the hall, shouting something definitely non-intelligible.

"You...may want to go after him. Keep him out of as much trouble as you can manage," he sighed, thinking about what he could use instead of catswort for his teas now...

Meanwhile Jaskier was chasing after the flicker of light through the windows, filtered through trees moved by the gentle breeze. His pupils were rounded again, wide and wondering as he hopped out the nearest window, dropping to the ground below with grace and ease, despite being a decent ways up.

Geralt watched him go, eyes wide, judging the jump. He didn't think he'd break his legs, climbing out the window, working his way down. 

"Jaskier!?" He called, following him out in into the area surrounding the keep.

A sort of chirp sound erupted from the tree above Geralt, the small Witcher laid out on one of its branches, limbs dangling as he blinked those bright blue eyes down at him.

"Up here sweet pup, up here. Waaaaay up here. Climbed it, all on my own. D'you like climbing trees? I'm pretty good at it– have to be for stealth murder purposes but that's besides the point, totally besides the point. I just like climbing trees because it's fun and then I get to be really tall. Is this what it feels like for you, you great massive thing you? So tall, so high up– why am I up here? Geralt! Geralt why am I up here! I'm so high up! What if I fall!? The ground is so far and so hard and I could fall!"

Geralt looked up at Jaskier, admiring him before the panic set in. "Easy! Breathe, Jaskier!" He called up, looking around the trees. "Just hold on, don't fall. I'm coming to get you." 

Yeah that was smart. Then they could both fall and die.

He started his climb up, keeping an eye on his feet, making due they were nice and steady. "So cats do get stuck in trees then?"

Jaskier whined, moving to the edge of the branch he was on, the whole thing bowing slightly under his weight.

"I'm in a tree! Geralt... Geralt I'm in a tree. Oh my gods I'm in a tree..." he breathed, digging his claws into the branch beneath him. "Geralt, Geralt I don't remember getting up here! ...you smell nice–"

His mind was so clear and yet, somehow he was so lost and confused. Everything was scrambled and overwhelming, overpowering. There was this buzzing at the back of his head that just wouldn't stop.

Geralt huffed, looking up at Jaskier. "Stop moving!" He called up to him. 

He managed to get to the branch beneath Jaskier, knowing the one he was on wouldn't hold the both of them. "Give me your hand and hold on tight."

He blinked down at Geralt, looking rather confused for a moment even as he reached out for his hand.

"How did you get there?" He asked, looking around him, noticing once again that he was, in fact, in a tree, and rather high up the tree.

...what the fuck was happening to him?

"I feel really weird, Geralt. Really odd. My body is weird and my head is fuzzy– do you hear a buzzing sound? Something is buzzing and it won't stop and I can't seem to make it– did you know we're in a tree? Really high up, too. I didn't know Wolves could climb so well, you big beastly handsome thing and your brothers aren't small either– is it just you that can climb?"

Geralt grabbed Jaskier's hand, pulling him down and holding onto him tightly before pulling him up, flush to his chest. He wrapped his arms around him, looking down at the ground. 

They were really high up. Shit. 

"Hold on tight, ok? I'm going to put you on my back so we can climb down."

"Can you climb down like that? That seems rather dangerous if you're not an experienced climber," Jaskier frowned, blinking and going still and silent for a solid minute before seeming to shake himself out of it. He clung to Geralt's back, digging his claws into the pup's shoulders.

"I'm an excellent climber– I can climb really high, really fast. Ooh... that's how I got up here. I don't remember though– did I climb? Geralt, why are we in a tree?"

Geralt huffed, looking down at the floor. "Because I'm going to kill Vesemir." He started moving down slowly, holding on to the branches tightly. 

It took him a while to get down, but once he was on the ground, he slumped, taking a deep breath, glad he didn't fall and kill them both.

As soon as Geralt had gotten them back to the ground, Jaskier jumped from his back, ducked, rolled and hopped back to his feet, beaming happily. His pupils were so round that there was barely any blue to them at all, and he rushed Geralt, tackling him to the ground to nuzzle against him, purring again as he did so.

"Your hair is so pretty, Geralt... so pretty and soft and lovely and it smells so nice and you smell so nice and oh!" He paused his nuzzling, lifting his head and seeming to just freeze there a moment, listening.

He made another chirp sound, his pupils narrowing as he grabbed for one of the daggers strapped to his back. It was unsheathed, in his hand and then thrown in the matter of a split moment, and he quickly jumped from Geralt's body to run towards where he'd thrown his dagger.

Geralt was back to enjoying the nuzzling, deciding he could tolerate this far more than having to pull him out of another tree. Before he realized what was going on, Jaskier was gone again. 

He jumped up, running after him, hoping one of his brothers didn't just get stabbed. Praying it was just a deer or something.

Grinning like an idiot, Jaskier pulled his dagger free from the decent sized deer he'd taken down, sheathing his blade and looking to Geralt when he broke through the brush.

"Geralt! Geralt, Geralt! I got it! Did you see me? Did you see me throw it and woosh! I got it!" He beamed, so proud of himself, the buzzing in the back of his head making him twitch and furrow his brow slightly.

"Holy shit..." Geralt breathed, admiring the side of the deer. Even like this, Jaskier was a deadly force. Why did that make him so attractive? 

"Come on, let's get this back inside. We can have it for dinner." He hummed, looking the deer over again. "Good kill, Jaskier."

Triumphant and still running on this odd energy, Jaskier helped Geralt to carry the deer back towards the keep, his body practically vibrating beside the Wolf. His heart was beating so quickly but his breathing was so slow, so even.

Making it back to the courtyard area, Jaskier's pupils narrowed again as he darted from beneath the deer, rushing towards the smell of leather and sweat, jumping at the larger Witcher. He did not tackle him to the ground, but he did proceed to rub against Lambert, purring all the while.

Lambert jumped, grabbing hold of Jaskier, terrified for a moment before he realized he was being rubbed against. "Uh... Geralt!?" He called out, wondering what the hell was going on. "Hi pretty kitty. Had to get a taste of Lambert then?"

In response, he merely nuzzled his nose against Lambert's jaw, rubbing his body against Lambert's, feeling all the hard planes of him, the scratch of armor against his own loose shirt.

He didn't know why, but rubbing against the pretty Wolves just felt nice. He loved the smell of all of them, and that underlying sameness they all shared that screamed _Wolf_.  
Closer now, Lambert was like leather and sweat and pine. He closed his eyes and breathed him in, wanting–

The scent of lavender interrupted his thought and action of biting Lambert, his pupils narrowing and then going big and round, not even looking but _knowing_ Geralt was there.

Geralt huffed, running over toward Jaskier and Lambert. It hurt to see him so close to his brother like that, reminding himself he couldn't help it. 

"Come on Jaskier. Once we get that deer to the kitchen we can go somewhere quiet." He offered, holding his hand out to Jaskier again.

He pulled away from Lambert, huffing softly before moving quickly to Geralt's hand, taking it in his own and bringing it to his face to brush it against his cheek.

"I took down a whole deer! Me! With my dagger," he grinned, turning a flashy eye look towards Lambert, giving him a toothy grin, showing off those slightly sharper than usual cuspids. "I was in the kitchen and then I jumped! from the window and I climbed into a tree! Geralt had to come get me and he saved me! My precious pretty puppy saved me from the tree and then I got the deer!"

Lambert grinned back looking up to Geralt. "What is he on? Is there more?" He laughed at Geralt's grimace, pulling Jaskier along with him.

"You're such a good kitty, aren't you?" Geralt started, trying to distract Jaskier. "Such a handsome, wonderful man."

Jaskier moved along beside Geralt, Lambert's scent not bringing him any interest anymore anyway. Especially not while Geralt was praising him so softly, bringing that quiet rumble in his chest to something louder, quick and rolling as he pressed himself against his sweet pup.

"Oh, my pretty thing, you're all talk but I love the words you use," he purred, bumping his nose to Geralt's jaw, nipping at the skin there playfully. "Always have been such a flatterer, you."

"I'm all talk?" Geralt hummed, pulling Jaskier closer. He was. He knew that. 

Still, Jaskier was the most beautiful person he'd had the opportunity to meet and he'd treat him as such. Wouldn't risk anything spooking him and scaring him away.

"Mmm...well maybe not all talk, but I mean that you talk a lot actually, which I'll say was unexpected when I first met you. Big thing you are, pretty handsome big thing all brawn and brain and beauty and oooh I did not expect the mouth on you," he snickered, leaning against Geralt.

Lambert helped to bring the deer in, still wondering what the fuck had gotten into their pretty kitty guest. When they made it to the kitchen and he caught Geralt's glare at Vesemie, he had even more questions, honestly.

"How... is he?" Vesemir asked, looking to Jaskier leaned against Geralt, noticing the way his pupils narrowed and blew wide, over and over before settling to rounded.

Geralt smirked, leaning in to Jaskier, holding him close. "My mouth does a lot more than just talk whenever you're ready for that." He whispered in his ear, standing back up. It would be good to fluster him just a bit, after everything he's been through today.

Overhearing the whispered words, Vesemir and Lambert both cleared their throats and turned away.  
Jaskier licked his lips, his tongue staying there between his lips after as he looked up at Geralt, cheeks flushed with warmth.

Mouth doing more than– Ohhhh.  
_Oh._  
His pupils went wide when it really hit him what Geralt meant.

Geralt looked over to the other two. Served them right for eavesdropping. 

"Let's get you all settled in and comfortable, yeah?" He asked, pulling Jaskier along, back to his room.

Whining softly, he moved along as Geralt guided him, and each time something caught his attention and he froze, before attempting to dart in its direction, Geralt held tight to him to keep him in place.

Eventually, with much effort and many pauses, they made it back to Geralt's room, where Jaskier pulled from his Wolf's grasp and ran directly to the bed, throwing himself into it to rub himself all over Geralt's blankets.

Everywhere had a faint scent of Geralt, now that he was back and was cleaning all of the rooms during his morning chores, but nothing was quite like the concentrated scent of him here, in his bed.

Cedarwood and ash, leather and lavender, iron and oil. All combined with that Wolf scent that Jaskier seemed to love anyway.

Geralt watched Jaskier roll around in his sheets, the sight of it making him feel warm. 

Even his scent brought Jaskier so much joy. He really did love the Wolf, even if he couldn't say so yet. 

"How are you feeling?"

Jaskier rolled onto his back, his shirt all askew as he blinked slowly up at Geralt, that rumbling purr coming back as he looked to his wolf.

"Floaty, mostly. Have you ever felt floaty? It's like... erm, well...I suppose it's like falling? But, without the splat or crunch at the end, just all that feeling in the middle when the air is rushing all around you and your mind is somehow quiet but also raging with thoughts that you can't even begin to pin down or decipher because you're just waiting for the end of the fall," he nodded, slowly before twisting, rubbing his back into Geralt's bed now. Surely, if one were to smell him, he would smell of Geralt and that was a nice thought actually.

"You're not going to fall, Jaskier. I've got you." Geralt reassured, sitting himself down at the end of the bed. "I'm sorry this happened."

"Wha- I know I'm not going to fall, silly. And even if I did, it's not as though your bed is very high. Might hurt for a moment, depending how I land, but nothing more than that really I'd think," he hummed, the purring still rumbling his chest even as he spoke.  
"Anyway, sorry what happened? What's happened? Is something wrong?"

Geralt loved that sound, so calming. "No, no. Everything's fine." He shook his head, part of him hoping Jaskier wouldn't remember, but part of him hoping he would.

He was rather precious like this. All wiggly and round pupils.

Jaskier hummed and crawled down the bed, sitting and wriggling behind Geralt so he could rest his chin on the man's shoulder. He nuzzled the man's neck, nibbled his ear and purred so damn loudly, like he was putting all of himself into that sound.

"Do you still like me, my darling?"

"Of course I do." Geralt shivered at the feeling of teeth at his ear. "I love you, kitten."

Another soft little chirping, whimpering sound left him as he nuzzled against Geralt, squeezing the man in his arms before flopping back on the bed. He was sprawled out, arms either side of himself, his feet still either side of Geralt's hips.

"Oh my sweet darling... you make me so warm when you say sweet things like that. You make my heart ache so wonderfully."

He loved being called 'kitten' by Geralt.

Geralt laughed, taking one of Jaskier's feet in his hand, rubbing at his ankle with his thumb. "You do the same to me. That little purring you always do, the way you smile only for me. Such a darling, aren't you?"

"I don't purr," he huffed, despite the very obvious purring rumbling through him as Geralt rubbed at his ankle.  
"But... I do smile for you, hm? It's because you make me happy, how can I not smile at you?"

"I make you happy?" Geralt asked, turning to look over his shoulder at Jaskier all sprawled out.

"You can't tell? Silly darling, of course you make me happy, so very happy," he breathed, closing his eyes, as he settled in. He rubbed himself aimlessly against the bed, going a little limp after only a little while.

"You're far too sweet and good to me, my precious pup."

Geralt hummed, feeling the wiggling stop. He turned around, resting his head on Jaskier's belly. 

"You deserve it. You deserve so much, kitten." He whispered, looking up at him.

Idly, Jaskier moved his hand to knead at Geralt's shoulder, the other playing mindlessly with his long white hair, though that was short lived. His body seemed to just stop working as he wanted, going absolutely boneless and lax, still kneading at his shoulder, though.

"You're allowed think that, but you'd be wrong. I don't deserve nearly as much as you think I do."

"Doesn't matter what you think." Geralt hummed, settling back in, closing his eyes. "All that matters is that I think you deserve so much. And if you'll settle for me, you'll make me a very happy pup."

"Isn't settling you big dumb thing," he growled, but there wasn't a lot of heat behind it. "You're far better than anything I deserve. Sweet and precious and so absolutely kind and wonderful and... and I lo–" he swallowed back the word, like he was swallowing his own tongue, and his purring caught in his chest a moment.

He blinked his eyes open, staring up at the stone of the ceiling a moment to let his eyes focus before he looked to Geralt. His pupils were still rounded as he looked to the man.

"You are so very important to me. Special, to me."

Geralt had felt that rush, almost thinking he'd say it. When he didn't, it stung, but he could handle it. "I love you too, Jaskier." He whispered, resting his face against his stomach. He'd have to move, knowing he'd squish Jaskier if he fell asleep like this, but he wanted to linger a moment.

The bitter smell of his pup's disappointment made his nose scrunch up, shaking his head a bit as he made a soft sound of agitation.  
"I'll get there someday, I promise. I just..." he sighed, closing his eyes again as the kneading of his hand paused, as if all of him was contemplating his words carefully.

The blunt truth was that he needed to push out all of Gweld from his heart before he would invite Geralt in to take over the whole of it.

"I can't yet, my darling, but I do, you understand?" He breathed, coming a bit back into himself, though now he sounded, looked and felt exhausted.

Geralt nodded, wrapping his arms around him. "I understand." He sighed heavily, breathing the scent of him in. 

"Sometimes I just think about what we could have been if I'd met you first." He sighed, knowing that wasn't fair, but he did. Could Jaskier have loved him instead? Would he even think about him at all?

It's not like any of it mattered, he just hated that a dead man still took up so much space in Jaskier's heart.

His heart clenched, that boneless feeling going away as his muscles tightened.  
He got a sense of fight or flight and when it came to these things, he always wanted to choose flight. He wanted to run, wanted to escape and get away and not talk about this anymore.

"It's... not my fault," he breathed quietly, even if he didn't fully believe his own words. "Feelings are... complicated and overwhelming and I can't... control them," he murmured, wanting to cry, wanting to scream at Geralt for making him feel bad about the love he still held for a fucker like Gweld.  
He knew it wasn't right or fair or... or any of it, but he couldn't _control_ that, didn't he understand...?

"Thinking of a past that never happened and cannot be changed is pointless and will only lead to hurt and insanity. I'm sorry I didn't meet you first. I would prefer not to hold so much anger and hurt and hatred in my own body but... that's life."

And life doesn't play fair.

Geralt rolled over, letting Jaskier get up if he wanted to, curling on the side of the bed. 

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that." He took a deep breath. "I know it's not your fault and I know how hard you're trying." He reassured, feeling his blood going cold. 

He really shouldn't have said that. It wasn't far to wish for something like that, bringing him up like that. 

"I just... I still love you so much. It doesn't change what happened or how you feel, I know that. I just want you to know. I love you so much that it hurts sometimes."

The Cat heaved a breath, his tongue sticking out between his lips for a moment, just laying there and focusing on his breathing, schooling his heart rate as he listened to Geralt.

The bitter taste in his mouth was enough to make him wish to leave, the ache in his chest only adding to that, but still he stayed, rolling over to wrap his arms around Geralt, tangling his legs with his pup's comfortably.

"If I could make it all go away, just turn off those feelings and forget about him with a snap, I would, my darling. But, it isn't that easy for me," he sighed, trying to think how he could explain the overwhelming emotions to a Wolf, who was trained to mostly control and school their emotions.

"I am trying to cope, and work through all my bullshit so that I can rid my heart and my brain of the filth that was Gweld– apologies, perhaps he was a good man at one point. But I feel everything with every single bit of myself and each part of him I release _hurts_ , because it was a part of _me_ , too."

Geralt relaxed, glad Jaskier had decided to stay with him. "I know. I just want that pain to stop. I just want to take all that hurt away and I can't." He sighed, resting his hand on top of Jaskier's. "I'm so used to being able to help people and I just feel helpless when it comes to you."

Jaskier smiled fondly, shaking his head as he pressed his head between Geralt's shoulder blades.  
"You help me plenty, sweet thing, by being so patient with me, by loving me despite my not being able to say the words in return yet," he hummed, pressing a kiss into the man's back.

"You don't have to say the words. I know you do." Geralt whispered, letting himself doze. It had been a stressful day of chasing after Jaskier.

"Hmm," the Cat replied oh so eloquently before yawning against Geralt's back and drifting to sleep once he settled.

《 _'I love you,' he whispered into the Wolf's ear as Gweld pressed himself so deeply inside, rolling his hips to seek his pleasure. He did not respond, but Jaskier figured he was far too busy using his body as words._

_'I love you,' he breathed as he curled against the Wolf's side, laying in his bedroll as they were. He did not answer, despite the fact that his snores were clearly manufactured and fake. He was just shy, surely._

_'I love you!' He cried as he thrust his blade through the Wolf's gut, pulling the Wolf's blade from his own leg to flip and add to the objects stabbing through the broken form of his Wolf.  
'I have never loved you, pussy cat,' he replied, finally, after all this time, and his words were honest and they hurt like Jaskier was the one being skewered by five blades, simultaneously._》

Tears streamed down Jaskier's cheeks in his sleep, his claws digging into Geralt's shoulder and chest.

Geralt heard the whimpers, felt the wetness at his back, claws dug into him. He carefully turned,rolling in Jaskier's arms to bury his face in his chest. "Shh... I got you." He whispered, running his fingers through his hair.

"Everything's going to be alright, kitten."

The gentling of Geralt's fingers through his hair and his so soft words settled the whimpers, slowed his tears, but Jaskier kept a tight grip on his pup, stirring slightly.

His eyelids fluttered open and he hummed softly, nosing against Geralt gently, quietly.

He was so good.

 _'I love you,'_ he wanted to say, but pressed his lips to Geralt's skin instead, hoping it would translate.

Geralt hummed, settling back in with Jaskier, knowing he was going to be ok. He pressed his own lips to his forehead, holding the back of his head before letting himself go back to sleep. 

It wasn't fair of him to demand so much from Jaskier. But he wanted him just to be happy. To tell him that he wasn't wasting all his love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, fun with catnip (catswort)!
> 
> The next chapter is gonna be a rough one, and it starts with a little time skip, so I thought here would be a good place to leave off
> 
> We got some other glimpse into Jaskier's past with Gweld and oof... what a jerk he was, huh?
> 
> Hope you're all doing well and thank you so much for reading so far! We've still got a good long ways to go before this one is over ♡


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sappy romantic crap ahead!  
> ...and then some not so good stuff

The sun crept in through the window as it did practically every morning for the past month and a half of being here at Kaer Morhen, of sharing Geralt's bed despite very clearly having his own set aside for him.

A month and a half of getting to know Geralt more, getting to know his brothers and Vesemir, and of the elder Witcher helping him to overcome some of the mental-emotional blockages and obstacles going on in his own head.  
A month and a half of learning just how much Geralt meant to him, and how much he meant to Geralt.  
A month and a half of sparring and training and teaching the Wolves some new tricks– _'Who said you couldn't teach old mutts new tricks?'_

A month and a half of pure joy, with the occasional relapses of sadness, of anger, but he had learned how to channel that into healthy things like meditation and throwing his daggers into the trees to get them dinner.

Jaskier smiled when he woke to the sun's warmth on his skin, feeling Geralt dip back into the bed and press his face into the Cat's chest. With a soft rumble start of a purr, Jaskier ran his fingers through Geralt's hair.

"Morning my love. Break from your chores?"

"Its snowing again." Geralt grumbled, burying his face in Jaskier's chest. "It's too cold to be out of bed." He huffed, settling back in a pulling the blankets up over his shoulders.

"Mm, I'll not complain of it then, if it brings you so wonderfully back to bed with me," he purred, pulling Geralt as close as possible, feeling the chill lingering on his skin, contradicting the warmth of the sun's rays.

"Shall we stay the whole day in bed today, then? Just you and myself and no one else, nothing else?" He smiled, still slipping his fingers through Geralt's hair. "Well, besides the bed things of course– those can stay, obviously."

Geralt nodded. He'd been letting Jaskier talk him into staying in bed lately. It was getting to that point in the season where he and his brothers started gaining a little meat to their bones, bodies growing soft and comfortable. They slowed their training, better to stay inside by the fire and study.

Jaskier was also benefitting from this, Geralt laying in bed to read, becoming more comfortable to rest his head on.

"I do enjoy hibernating with you, my love," Jaskier hummed quietly, closing his eyes again as he let himself drift in that cloudy space between sleep and conscious. It was comfortable, a nice warm feeling as he held his pup.

"My lazy darling," he added teasingly, knowing that, once the heavy snows had passed and warmer winter weather came about, Geralt and the others would return to their more vigorous training, and would work away some of the softness they'd acquired during this cold.

For now, he would appreciate it while he could.

Geralt laughed against his chest. "Mmm... you're a bad influence." He groaned, settling in and ready to doze. "This is all your idea, I know it is." He smiled, glad to have someone who would just linger in bed with him all day.

"Darling, Cats are known not only for their wonderful skills of the kill, but also their wonderful skill to laze about and be comfortable," he chuckled softly, sounding so close to falling asleep again that it was ridiculous.

But, he'd come to adore days like this, where they could simply hole up in the room and rest together, sleep, hold each other close.

"I love that about you." Geralt hummed, pushing a kiss to the small bit of skin he could reach. "Gonna make dinner tonight. I could eat a whole deer on my own." He groaned, hating how he did hardly anything but was always so hungry.

"Mm, my turn to make dinner, my dearest," he replied casually, nuzzling against his sweet Witcher.  
He had been added to the rotation of cooking some point after the first couple weeks had passed, and he had been happy for it. The Wolves seemed pleased, too, if their enjoyment of his meals was anything to go by.

"And, be honest, is there anything you _don't_ love about me? I feel that may be the shorter list, sweetling."

"Sometimes you kick in your sleep. I don't like that very much." Geralt smirked, waiting for the smack. "But I guess its only fair for the snoring."

Jaskier huffed, giving Geralt a soft kick. "A little like that, or harder? I imagine harder. Should I demonstrate a few different strengths so you can tell me which sort of kick?" He asked, smirking as he raised a brow, trailing his fingertips teasingly down Geralt's neck.

He couldn't imagine his life without Geralrlt, now, not after all this time they have spent together and in such close quarters. He'd grown to absolutely love Geralt, and his past, for the most part, was going well with being sorted through.

Geralt grunted at the soft kick, flicking him in retaliation. "Don't be so mean to me." He whined, pulling him tighter before moving to lay next to Jaskier, easier to look at him now. 

He couldn't imagine parting ways with him in the spring. It was going to be far too difficult. He'd grown to care so much for this strange little Witcher in such a short period of time. He loved him, and he knew Jaskier was working on loving him back. 

It was enough. But it would be too much to leave, they'd have to stick together.

"Don't be so mean to you? Oh– Oh my darling, if you think such a soft innocent little kick is _mean_ , you surely have been spending time with some other Cat Witcher these past weeks," he snickered lightly, though he rolled over to nuzzle against the man, smiling as he pressed a kiss to his chest.

"Who knew a big bulky thing like you could be so damn cute?"

"I'm adorable." Geralt corrected with a pout, hand moving to Jaskier's hair. 

"And I'm not bulky. I thought I was small before I met you. You're like the tiniest witcher. So small and filled with murderous intent."

"Probably filled with murderous intent because of big bulky jerks like you that say you aren't bulky and then proceed to call me tiny!" He huffed, gently smacking Geralt at the side of his head.

"Helps you, though. To never judge a being by their size. I may be small but you know I can kill you, and things bigger than you."

"I never doubted that from you." Geralt reminded, smiling at the abuse. "You proved your ability to kill me before I even got your name. Pretty little kitty you." He hummed, pulling him closer.

"I know you could kill me. I'd like that to be how I go." He teased lightly.

Jaskier groaned and rolled his eyes. "I would not! All that guilt to carry that I killed you?! Never be able to rest anywhere for fear your brothers or Vesemir would come to tear me apart," he grumbled, burying his face.

"Besides... I'm a selfish creature and I don't want to outlive someone that I love again."

"I don't want you to outlive me either. I hope we die side by side." Geralt hummed, running his hand up Jaskier's neck. 

"I love you too."

His cheeks flushed and he shuddered against Geralt, a soft whine leaving his lips.

"So what, you want for us to slay each other?" He asked, a bitter laugh leaving him as he shook his head. "If I killed you, Geralt, I doubt I could live with myself, so if you hadn't fatally wounded me, I'd do the job myself."

"Well, ideally, I'd like to die of old age with you." He hummed dreamily, imagining that small house in the woods again. He didn't know when Jaskier moved into the house in his imagination but he had. They lived there comfortably, so fulfilled by eachother they didn't need much else. 

"I know that's a day dream as a Witcher but... I can dream." He teased, bumping their noses together.

"You're such a dreamer, my darling, truly. The softest big scary Witcher I've ever had the pleasure to know and especially share a bed with," he hummed, nuzzling against him so very gently before booping his nose gently. "Precious thing– no a single being, besides myself now, would look at you and think of the two of us, that _you're_ the soft daydreamer."

"Now how many other Witchers are you sharing beds with?" He teased, giving his arm a playful squeeze.

Geralt hummed, wrapping his arms around Jaskier, resting their foreheads together, looking into his deep blue eyes. "Maybe I can turn you into a daydreamer. Come on, wouldn't it be nice? Not a thing in the world to worry about. We could stay in bed in our little cabin until our bellies are the only thing forcing us up. Don't you want to grow old and round with me?"

Jaskier's cheeks burned with warmth as Geralt described, yet again but in different detail, what a retired life for them might look like.  
And, well... needless to say, it looked rather lovely and, yes, he would very much want that but–

"But Witchers don't retire, dearheart, and Vesemir must have instilled that in you at some point in your long life. Because all the elders do, because that is very much a part of their teachings, I'm told," he sighed, worrying his lower lip.

"...but if... if in some future, the likes of us can peacefully retire, and the two of us are still very much alive, then... yes. It would be nice, and yes, I would very much like to grow old and rounder with you," he hummed, finally meeting Geralt's golden gaze, noticing the rounded pupils and wondering if they always did that, when Geralt looked at him.  
And then, wondering if his did that too, when he looked at Geralt in return.

"Though, my bladder may very well lift me from bed before my stomach."

"I guess that's a fair point." Geralt sighed, reaching his hand up through Jaskier's hair. 

"In this world, Witchers go missing all the time. Wind up dead, captured. No ones gonna notice if two more go missing." He whispered, desperately wanting to just be happy with Jaskier. Hole away with him, where they don't have to worry about anything but each other. 

They'd both probably go mad with boredom, but it was worth a try. At least he was humoring him. He didn't tell him he was ridiculous.

"Very well, then. Someday, we will try your outlandish and wonderful daydream of a plan. First, you'll either have to find and buy a cabin, or find land so that we can build our own, I suppose," he smiled softly, a look of such immense fondness in his eyes as he bumped his nose to Geralt's again.

"I mean, before that, I'd like to continue living as a Witcher is meant, at least for a while. I do still rather enjoy killing things, awful as that may sound and horrible as that may make me as an individual, but, alas, you are the one to being up my being filled with murderous intent. All that intent must be channeled somewhere, mustn't it?" He chuckled softly, realizing that, since being with Geralt, he had never spoken more than in their shared time.

When they first met, he never used to talk this much. His White Wolf really was rubbing off on him, evidently.

"Maybe I've already scouted a place out. Always have been a daydreamer myself, you know." Geralt chuckled quietly, rubbing this noses together. He wanted so badly to kiss him, had been for a while. But the more time they spent nestled together the stronger that pull got. 

He always pulled away, never wanting to push too far. "I never said you couldn't be a Witcher in our little scenario. I'd never ask you to be something you're not. To do what you aren't ready for."

"So you'd be okay with, in this sweet little domestic scenario, that I still leave you in our beautiful cozy little home to go out and kill nobles and monsters? You'd be fine with that?" He asked, leaning back slightly, as he always seemed to do after some period of time laying so close and snuggled up to his Geralt.

"Some of my more in-depth assassination jobs among nobles takes... _time,_ darling, and it isn't always so cut and dry as going in, finding my target and taking them to their death..."

"If that was what you wanted." Geralt nodded, not quite enjoying the idea of assassination, though he wasn't the one doing it. 

"Jaskier, we are what we are. I might still take contracts, and I'm sure I couldn't leave my brothers to think me dead. But I'd want you to be happy, kitten." He reached for Jaskier's hand, just wanting to hold it. "As long as you came back to me when you were finished, I'd wait for you." He promised. "As long as it takes."

"Big giant softie," Jaskier huffed, giving Geralt's hand a squeeze, just feeling the way their hands melded so perfectly together. If he were a sappy sort like Geralt, he might even say–  
"–it's like we were made for each other."  
–but he would never...

He blinked, pulling his other hand up to cover his mouth when he realized he'd actually said those silly, sappy sweet words out loud. His cheeks flushed and he whined softly.

"And why is that such a bad thing?" Geralt asked, only pretending to be annoyed. "Don't you think Witchers go through enough? We do deserve some happiness." He hummed, bringing Jaskier's hand to his lips, kissing his fingers. 

"Maybe that's why everyone before you felt so wrong. It just wasn't meant to be."

"So there were others, then?" Jaskier asked, a bit of a cocky smile on his lips as he raised a brow. "And when do I get to hear all the sordid details of what surely must have been a string of heartbroken lovers left behind by your handsome, lovely face, hm?"

Not that he wanted to hear any of that, actually, but always best to cover jealousy and insecurity with bullshit like he did.

"Not sure they were the ones heartbroken." Geralt laughed quietly. "No need to be so jealous. You know I do nothing half assed." He winked, knowing the jealousy to be there.

"I'm all yours. My heart wants for no other. Not anymore." He whispered against his hand, looking at him, so lost for him. "I promise."

_Not anymore._

"I'm not jealous! I'm just– not jealous!"

So, at a time, his heart _had_ wanted for another, though he had no clue who that other could be, and he wasn't overly sure he wanted to know.

"Anyway, I should've known. Your heart is so full and so soft, of course you were the one to be hurt, hm? My poor pup..." he breathed, bumping their noses again, his favorite form of affection that they shared. "I shall treat that heart of yours with such care and affection as it deserves."

"You always do, kitten. You're already so different." Geralt whispered, closing his eyes. "You understand I'm not some unfeeling creature. I have emotions. They're just not as free. Tempered." He sighed, knowing so many others who'd assumed his heart could never feel for them.

"Oh, my darling... if your feelings are at all tempered when it comes to how you express them to me? I fear for what untempered feelings would be like from you. Beyond overwhelming, I imagine," he chuckled softly, a teasing sparkling look in his eyes as he tilted his head.

"Tell me about your past sometime, will you?" He hummed, sitting up and stretching, being sure not to hit his pup. "But for now, sweet one... my stomach craves food and my legs require stretching."

Geralt groaned, burying his face in the pillow. "Alright. Let's get you up. Get some pants on you." He agreed reluctantly.

"Maybe wrap a blanket around your shoulders. Keep you warm. I know how you get cold so easy." He slowly sat up in bed, grabbing up his tunic he knitted himself. "Put that on. It'll keep you warm."

He was so attentive... when had Geralt noticed he got cold easily? Sappy sweet creature that he was...

Jaskier smiled so fondly and moved himself close to Geralt, hesitating for only a moment before cupping his pup's cheeks and pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

It was magic, their lips meeting for the first time. A jolt of excitement flooded him and he lingered there for a moment before pulling away, smiling, and moving to grab up discarded breeches and the tunic from Geralt.

Geralt stood frozen with his lips tingling. His head pounding in his chest. A kiss. Soft and simple, just like he'd been wanting for so long but far better than he could have dreamed. 

He sighed, licking his lips to chase the feeling, looking at Jaskier with big, soft eyes and a warm content smile. 

"I love you." He breathed, watching him a moment longer before turning away to pull his shoes on. He thought it best not to make a big deal of it, too have accepted it happened and hope for many more. 

One step at a time.  
But every little step left him feeling breathless and hopelessly in love.

"And I, you, pup," he replied softly, finding ways around his insecurity and his fear to reply to Geralt.

He pulled the breeches on beneath his nightgown, and pulled the tunic over top. He certainly wouldn't be winning any fashion points for how he currently looked, but at least he was warm, and he smelled of Geralt. With a smile on his lips, he offered a hand out to his love so they could go off to the kitchens together and eat.

Geralt followed behind Jaskier, watching him as they walked. "What are we having tonight?" He asked, rubbing his belly at the thought of Jaskier's cooking. He wasn't bad at all, bringing a mix to the meals they usually filled themselves with over the chilly months.

"Hmm... if we still have those beans and some of the venison, I could make a stew of sorts," he hummed. "Stew is good for cold weather, and certainly its filling if you've got enough to go in it, and beans and venison are both good sources for protein... add some chopped vegetables perhaps, a tomato base if we have any..." Jaskier rambled away, waving his hands as he talked as was usual for him.  
He loved to cook for his Wolves, which was probably the oddest contrast against his murderous intent and skills as an assassin.

"Whatever you'd like. Sounds good though." Geralt nodded, getting Jaskier the things he was asking for before moving out of his way to watch. 

He hummed, leaning on the counter watching him work. Always in awe of everything the man did, but of course he was biased.

Jaskier sang happily as he moved in the kitchen as gracefully as he moved anywhere else. He chopped up the veggies and the venison, cooking down the tomatoes that he smashed and added in the browned venison and the veggies.

While it was all simmering and cooking down, he sat at the counter with Geralt, singing to him as he held his pup's hand.

Geralt smiled, watching Jaskier feeling truly happy. He hoped their days could always be filled like this in the future. 

"Smells delicious, kitten. Others should be here any minute."

"Oh I hear them scrambling already," he teased lightly, moving back to the stove to serve out bowls for his Wolves.

He may have been a little biased and gave Geralt more in his bowl than the others.

"Hurry up my dear Wolves!" He called, knowing that the three not currently in the kitchen would hear him easily.

Vesemir was already on his way to the kitchens, making it there first, the others following behind soon after. They all sat together, eating and gabbing away. 

Geralt sat, eating his food, but was otherwise distracted. He couldn't help but focus on Jaskier's lips, thinking of how they felt pressed against his own. How he wanted it again.

When the meal was finished, Jaskier stood from the table and stretched. "Alright darlings, I cooked, so you lot get to fight over doing the cleaning up," he hummed winking at the Wolves before moving himself out of the kitchen and back towards the bedroom he shared with Geralt.

Geralt followed behind Jaskier, something about him seemed so different, but exactly the same. He knew he was delusional, but it was just the romantic in him. 

"Can we talk, kitten?" He asked hopefully, sitting himself down to take his boots off.

Jaskier threw himself down onto the bed behind Geralt, sprawling out again happily. "We always do, darling, we always do," he hummed softly. "What is it that you'd like to talk about pup? Something in particular or just that you'd like to talk, about any- and everything my sweet?"

"I always love a good chat with you." Geralt hummed, turning to better look at him. He moved, taking off Jaskier's shoes for him, adjusting his socks so his ankles wouldn't go cold.

"But it's something in particular and I'm afraid I'll upset you if I ask. So I wanted to give a little warning before I make my request."

"Alright my darling, what in particular are you wishing to speak about?" He asked, only slightly hesitant as he tried to let himself relax, closing his eyes.

It could be any number of things that Geralt wanted to tall about, ask about. Could be the kiss. Could be the subtle ways he's said 'I love you'. Could be questions about Gweld. Could be questions about...sexual intimacy or what not. Could be literally anything and the thinking himself into a tizzy wasn't helping.

"Best you just go ahead and ask I think– too much preparation just makes it agonizing."

"I... sorry your right." Geralt smiled, moving to lay down with Jaskier, just facing him. He chewed his lip, anxious about asking.

"May I kiss you again?" He asked hopefully, looking the other man over anxiously. "Sorry I just... have been wanting to do that a lot lately and... it was nice." He cracked a dopey smile. 

"You can say no. I'd understand. Only kiss you on your terms." He sat up, giving Jaskier a little space if he needed it.

He really was such a sweet, dopey thing, his Geralt.

"Yes," he breathed quietly, worrying his lower lip between his teeth just a moment before turning to look at his pup. "You may kiss me, if you'd like. Because I– well, I mean I liked. And you just said that you've been– so yes. The answer is yes, sweetling. So please kiss me before I carry on rambling like the fool that you make me to be."

"I like your ramblings." Geralt teased, flopping back on the bed. He rolled to Jaskier, pushing his hair back before closing his eyes, gently pressing their lips together. 

Just that, just lingering a moment before pushing a few more soft kisses to his lips with a soft sigh. He felt his hands shaking, as if it were his first kiss.

Silly as that sounded, with the experience he'd had, it felt completely new with him.

Of course he likes the ramblings.  
Fucking sap.

Jaskier feels himself smile into the kiss, their lips pressed together so sweetly, and Geralt never taking anything further than just the lingering kiss and a few other soft kisses.  
He is so good that Jaskier doesn't know what to do with that goodness. So attentive and good and... he feels tears welling in his eyes so he wraps his arms around Geralt's neck, tangling his fingers in his long hair. The Cat pulls his Wolf in close and kisses him again, only this time he let's his lips part just slightly, only a little. It's tentative, when his tongue flicks against Geralt's lips.

He's scared– dear sweet Melitele, he's terrified.

The last person he kissed this way—

Best not dwell on that.

Geralt gasped softly, letting out a quiet whimper at the feeling of his soft tongue against his lips. He let his own part, letting Jaskier's tongue into his mouth, only letting his own lap against it, not pushing.

He tasted of the spices of their dinner, rich wine, and something sweeter. Something all of his own. He reached his hands up, gently cupping his cheek, wiping away his tears with his thumb.

He could feel him shaking, his body trembling a little, much like his own. He was gentle, keeping his hand at Jaskier's shoulder, the other soft on his jaw.

Gods it felt so different here and now, with the memory of his last kiss like this feeling oddly so fresh in his mind. Geralt was gentle and did not take what he wanted without question or permission. He was patient and he was kind and Jaskier was a crying mess as he kept kissing his Wolf, his Geralt.

He tasted of a hopeful spring, of a blissful summer, a gentle fall and a sweet winter. He tasted of their supper, and of the ale the Wolves drank. He tasted of home, a place Jaskier thought was forever lost to him that he now found in the most unlikely of places.

He felt at home, here, with Geralt. In his arms and with their lips pressed together, his nimble fingers tangling and twisting lovingly in Geralt's hair.  
He wanted to stay like this forever, just the pair of them and oh– oh, Geralt's silly little daydream really was rubbing off on him.

He broke free from the kiss, looking over his pup with rounded pupils, moving one of his hands so he could stroke at Geralt's cheek with his thumb.

"I want to always come home to you."

Geralt chased after Jaskiers lips, just brushing his along them, not ready to part just yet. He opened his eyes slowly, foggy with want. 

"I want that too, kitten. I want to make a home for you. Somewhere you look forward to coming back to. Somewhere you feel safe and happy." He whispered, bumping their noses together. "Please tell me you'll let me. Please tell me someday you'll have me as yours."

His eyes watered again and it felt like these tears of his were never ending and actually he rather hated that, thanks.  
Having a vast ocean of overwhelming, complicated emotions was a shit show and a half enough without all of these fucking emotions somehow leading him to crying like a mess in front of the one being on the face of the Continent that he could actually have a chance of a future with.

A real chance  
A real future.

"Make us a home, my darling. Make us a home so that, when I've worked through all of my shit completely, I can steal you away to our home and not leave for at least a solid week. A warm and safe, happy home, with a warmer, safer and happier love nest within."

"You'd make me the happiest mutt alive, you know that?" Geralt laughed, gently nuzzling against Jaskier, running his fingers through his hair. 

"I love you, Jaskier. Please tell me these are happy tears? Or am I that bad a kisser?"

He gently swatted at Geralt, a soft laugh on his lips as he rested his forehead against his love's.

"Happy is certainly one of the emotions I'm feeling, yes," he smiled, closing his eyes as he listened to their hearts beat together, both of their breathing a bit uneven.  
"You make me feel so much, Geralt, and that's saying a _lot_ , since I am doomed to always feel so much as part of my mutation," he huffed, still smiling. "You make me feel like I am worth something, worth the trouble you go through, worth your love and your affection and your sweet words that make me ache. You make me yearn for more than I'm ready for. Make me wish for things that cannot be changed. Make me feel so incredibly happy and loved and safe and... and thankful, grateful that you just had to be a big damn hero and go after the wraiths."

Gods, he wants to say it.  
It's at the tip of his fucking tongue but it sticks there like tar and it keeps his mouth shut tight, jaw clenched.  
He's already said so much, admitted so many feelings...

"I feel all that for you. I say it because I know you can't. Because I know it's what you need to hear and what my heart aches to say. I love you." Geralt whispered, pushing another soft kiss to his lips.

"I love you. And I would say it every hour of every day and mean the words no less. Possibly more each time I say them." He ran his fingers through his hair, resting his hand at the back of his head. 

"I love you because you love me. Even though you can't say it yet, I know. I know because you're here. Because you put up with me. Because you're trying so hard to give me what you think I want when all I truly want is you. Anything and everything."

Some part of him wanted to scream– it was too much, Geralt saying those words over and over and each time the meaning behind it was still there. He wasn't just saying it to say it, it held so much weight that it was crushing.

_'I love you.'_

"I want to give you everything, and I want, for that when I can give everything to you, that it's actually worth it. That I'm not as broken," he breathed, knowing it was stupid, knowing that Geralt wouldn't say as much, but would get this soft look in his eyes that said it all, that silently told him how silly and stupid he was being because, _'Kitten, broken or not, I love all of you. All of your pieces, and the whole of you,'_ – he could practically hear Geralt saying it, could hear his voice taking over the space that that other, far less supportive voice had been in his own head.

"If you don't stop saying all this romantic crap, I might actually explode and die," he breathed with a soft, wet laugh. Tears still slipped down his cheeks as he leaned forward and stole another kiss.

He was going to be okay.  
There was no doubt in his mind, now.  
As long as Geralt was alive and around him and willing to love him patiently and sweetly as he did, he was going to be okay.

"Yeah, but what a way to go." Geralt breathed a laugh, his own eyes watering now. "I'll stop for now, but you're not free of me yet." He teased, just smiling to Jaskier softly. 

"I do mean it though." He whispered, taking a deep breath, wiping his tears away.

"I hope rather to never be free of you my darling– my turn to be a complete sap, but I've been free of you for long enough of my life, that I'd like very much for the rest of it to include you in as many ways as is possible," he hummed, kissing the tears from Geralt's cheeks.

They were both such messes.

Jaskier yawned and stretched his toes as he did, bumping his nose to Geralt's.  
"Now, let's pull away from all that for a moment and maybe get back to laying around, hm? I could go for a nice hibernation nap."

"I think at this point of the night its just going to sleep." Geralt smirked, reaching his arms out for him, wanting to hold him. 

"Before we do, can I have a good night kiss?" He asked hopefully.

"Oh, alright! Since you asked just so sweetly," Jaskier sighed, putting on a voice of being so put upon by Geralt's request.

He leaned in and pressed his lips to his pup's as he ran fingers through his White Wolf's hair.

"Hibernation sleep, then."

"Good night, kitten." Geralt whispered, settling in. He was the happiest he'd been in years. This was the closest Jaskier has come to saying he'd loved him, the most they've discussed what they were to each other and even made hopeful plans for the future. 

Things were really looking bright and the Wolf could not be happier.

__________________________

Curled against Geralt, it was easy to slip to sleep, comfortable and warm as he was, exhausted from experiencing so many emotions in the last few hours alone.

The dark of sleep crept over him, pulling him in.

《 _'Sweet darling pussy cat– alive and well I see. I was so worried that you'd been killed in the attack on Stygga Castle,' Gweld stepped forward, offering his hands out to him as he stared from the offered hands to the man's face._

_He loved that face. Remembered loving it, but that was all over, all about to change._

_'I thought you dead in the same attack, ironically. Instead, I find that you've been **fucking** your way across the entire Continent. How... good for you,' he hissed, his fists clenching and unfurling at his sides, over and over until he decidedly kept them clenched._

_'Oh, pussy cat... You didn't expect I'd stay to only fucking you, now did you? I mean... you're good, but you're not enough,' he hummed, putting on this false pout that only drew out Jaskier's rage._

_'Is that all this is to you? All I am to you?'He breathed, choking up despite himself because he knew the answer before it even crossed Gweld's lips._

_'Pathetic little cat– you were good for what you were worth. Information, bed warming, but I don't have a need of you anymore–'_ 》

Jaskier growled, a feral and broken sound as he tore away from the arms around him, shrieking and slashing out at the hands and body that were against him. Still mostly in a state of sleep, feeling the give of flesh beneath his claws, Jaskier slipped free of the hold that had been on him and ran.  
Ran to the window and jumped, no cares for where it would lead him, he just knew he needed to get as far away as possible.

He landed as gracefully as possible in his state of only partial wakefulness, and from the place he landed, he sprinted into the trees, just going, just running, no sense of where or really why just... that he needed to go, to move.

Geralt cried out, startled and suddenly blinded by the blood in his eye. He could barely see, reaching out to Jaskier, trying to make sure he was safe. 

He didn't understand, desperate for answers, he held his eye, reaching out but being knocked out all the same by angry flailing limbs. 

He woke to his brothers shaking him awake, sewing a wound over his eye shut, pouring something painful into it so he wouldn't lose it. "What happened to Jaskier!? Where is Jaskier!?" He whimpered, fighting against them a little, panic setting in. He looked around frantically, seeing his brothers were fine, only smelling his own blood. "Please I have to go find him!"

Lambert clenched his jaw, glancing to Eskel. "He's the one that did this to you, Geralt, you can't possibly–"  
Eskel placed a placating hand on Lambert's shoulder, gesturing for his to leave, to catch his breath and not lose his cool, not here and not now with Geralt as he was.

"Breathe, Geralt," Eskel started, looking to him. "Do you remember what happened? How you got hurt?"

Jaskier did not stop running until his feet, numb from cold, found a tree root and tripped him up, falling face first into snow. He yelped and jumped up to climb into the nearest tree, wrapping his arms around himself as he trembled and cried, sobs wracking his body.

He escaped.  
He got free.  
Nothing would ever–

...wait...  
Wait, he'd only been dreaming of Gweld, he was actually sleeping beside–

The blood on his hands was warm and sticky, still mostly fresh as he looked down at it.

An anguished yowl rang out across the mountain, chasing birds from their trees for flap and fly as far from the sound as possible. It could even be heard at the keep, where Vesemir was now joining the pups.

Geralt jumped at the sound, turning toward the outside. "That was him! He's still out there! We have to go after him. They have to have him!" He stood, a little dizzy from the blood loss and lack of depth perception. 

"Why are you all just looking at me? He's out there alone! Someone has my kitten and you're all just looking at me like I'm crazy! We have to help him!"

Eskel and Lambert turned to Vesemir, both holding Geralt steady and keeping their dumb ass brother from jumping out the nearest window to chase after the Cat.

"Geralt, sit down," Vesemir demanded, his tone leaving no room for argument or disobeying. "The only other being that was in your room, was Jaskier. He is the one that did this to you, and he is the one to have removed himself from the premises here. There is no outside force keeping him from returning of his own free will, pup," he explained.

They weren't sure what happened, or why Geralt was now a bloody mess with a deep gash along his eye, but they did know for certain who left him this way.

Dead.  
He was dead.  
His Geralt, his sweet pup– oh sweet Melitele he's killed his darling in his sleep.  
His heart pounded heavily as he clung to himself, hiding up in the tree. His eyes were wide, his pupils narrow, and his claws dug into his own sides.

Another yowl rang from him as he sobbed, but it was cut off by him biting his own tongue.  
If he kept making such noise, surely Geralt's brothers would hunt him down. They would chase after him to take him down for killing their brother.

Oh, gods... Geralt.

"No! You don't understand! Vesemir we have to! He wouldn't mean to hurt me!" Geralt begged, fighting against his brothers. "He must have been having an episode! Please! You have to believe me! I love him!" He struggled, getting himself worked up. 

He'd lost a lot of blood. He just couldn't understand why they were looking at him like that. 

"If he wanted me dead, why would he wait so long!? If he wanted all of us dead, why wouldn't he just poison the food!?"

Vesemir furrowed his brow, his gaze on Geralt stern. "Sit. Down. Pup, I won't say it again, so _please,_ " he sighed softly, motioning for Eskel and Lambert to release him.  
"I'm aware that it's very possible this was just an episode. But you're of no help to him right now anyway, not with your eye, and all that blood you've lost. I won't have you leaving. Your brothers and I will look while we can but, I will not risk their lives for his," he added, knowing it was very possibly cruel, and Geralt would be livid with him, but one life was not worth his boys lives, even Jaskier's.  
"I know you love him, Geralt, I know you do. But I care too much for you and your brothers. You understand?"

Hours he spent in the tree, crying softly until there were no further tears, until his heart ached and his toes and fingers were so cold that he couldn't feel them. He climbed down and moved farther away from Kaer Morhen, finding a cave to lay low in for a while, to build himself a small fire so he could warm his extremities.

Geralt sat himself down, slumping in his chair. He was quiet for a while, not sure what to say. He knew Vesemir was right, but Jaskier was out there and here was the best tracker on the continent. 

But he couldn't risk his brother's like that, especially when they seemed to think Jaskier attacked him, and purposefully. 

He couldn't help but worry when everyone came back empty handed. Jaskier was out there. He was alone and he was probably scared. Why wasn't he coming back?

Eskel rested a hand on Geralt's shoulder, giving him a look that was as close to sympathy as he could manage.

"I'm sorry, brother. Your Cat is excellent at covering his tracks. It's likely he isn't even on the mountain anymore..." he sighed, looking to Vesemir. He looked distraught that they hadn't been able to find Jaskier, and that Geralt was so injured.

Days passed into weeks. The weeks passed into another month gone by, and the winter chill was still strong in the air of the mountain, but warmer weather was starting to creep into other parts of the Continent by now.  
Jaskier had gotten himself off of that mountain and was currently roaming the roads, feeling sorry for himself, feeling ridiculous and stupid.  
How could he have killed his Geralt?  
His poor pup...

After all that they'd been through, all that planning for a possible future together and–

He stopped off the side of the road, dropping into the snow with a broken sob.

It had been so long since he'd had a good night sleep. So long since he'd had a good meal.  
He was very much back in that awful condition that he had been in when Geralt had first met him.

"Well, when you're done feeling sorry for yourself, you can get up and tell me what's happened to you." The voice called, standing above Jaskier, checking his nails. "Almost didn't recognize you in that pitiful state, buttercup."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What will become of our boys?!  
> Who is this mysterious stranger calling Jaskier 'buttercup'?!
> 
> Find out tomorrow!!  
> ~♡


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a weird back and forth between scenes in this chapter
> 
> but!
> 
> a lot going on!

The cold weather had passed. Geralt was having a hard time taking food, even moving out of bed had become difficult. He'd grown quiet, distant. He couldn't blame his brothers for not finding Jaskier, but maybe if they'd gone sooner...

It was almost certain his poor little kitten was dead. Dead or gone, not coming back to him. He was out there, unarmed, all alone in the cold. Poor thing was probably terrified, lonely, starving. 

After a month had passed, his eye was healed up decently. He could see out of it again, though there would always be a deep scar. 

When it came time to head out on the Path again, he didn't want to go. He wanted to stay in bed, mourn his loss. But he knew he couldn't.

He recognized the voice, a ghost from his past that made him sit up and wipe at the tears on his face.  
"Thought you died," he breathed, a smile tugging at his lips but not reaching his blue eyes.  
"Time's been incredibly kind to you, hasn't it– look at you. Handsome as ever aren't you dearheart?" Jaskier hummed, trying to push back the ache in his chest as he pushed himself to his feet.

He'd been able to find and kill some small creatures and use their fur as coverings for his feet and hands, keep his toes and fingers from freezing and falling off. Wouldn't be any good to anyone in that sort of a state. He still wore Geralt's tunic– that only piece of his love that he had, and he cherished it.

"And you look as if you've been living your life as a stable peasant." He smirked, offering his hand out to help. "Maybe the grave I thought you were in would have been a kinder place." He sighed, offering out some bread he'd had with him. 

"Let's get you somewhere warm. Get you a drink and some shoes and we can talk, alright?"

Jaskier rolled his eyes and reached for the hand, taking it and pulling himself up to his feet.  
"You're an awful jerk but it is very good to see your lovely face. I could kiss you, truly," he hummed, cupping his friend's cheeks with his cold hands.

"Lead the way and I shall trudge on along with you my dear Aiden."

"Hmm, might hold you to that." He winked playfully, pulling him up, leading the way to the nearest inn. "You stink like mutt. What have you been up to?" He asked, a little concerned he'd gone back to Gweld. Though, he was sure the bastard had died in that massacre. He had also almost been certain that it was Jaskier's doing, but he'd heard nothing of him since. 

He lead him to the tavern, sitting him down, getting him a hot mulled wine and something to eat.

He thanked Aiden many times, over and over until his friend waved him off and in more or less words told him to shut up and stop thanking him.

Settled in his seat, Jaskier sighed and lowered his head to speak.  
"I spent the winter at Kaer Morhen, the Wolf School," he admitted quietly, savoring his food and drink, still in the mindset of not knowing where his next hot meal would come from or when.  
"And you? I'm glad to see that you escaped mostly unscathed from the destruction of our home, but where have you been, what have you been up to since then, darling? I've missed seeing your lovely face."

"Hold on a minute! What the fuck were you doing at Kaer Morhen?! Are there not still Wolves there!?" He kept his voice down, speaking in hushed tones. People still got anxious to see Witchers raising their voices, and they hadn't been recognized as Cats just yet; he would much rather keep it that way.

Jaskier had his medallion tucked in anyway. So it would appear to be one Witcher telling off a town person.

"There... are still Wolves there. They hibernate there for the winter, it seems. Just their elder and three pups, far as I can tell," he bit his lip, his shoulders slumping. "Well... two pups now, I suppose..." he added, his throat clenching as he felt a fresh wave of emotions flooding him, bringing tears to his eyes again as he gripped the utensils he held to eat.

"A-Anyway I was... invited. I was invited to stay there for the winter so I wouldn't have to live like I have my past winters– running from cave to cave."

Even if that's quite exactly how he had ended up spending the tail end of this winter.

"Oh gods... you loved one of them, didn't you?" Aiden asked, hand to his mouth in shock. "Sweet Melitele's tits Jaskier... what happened? What did they do to you?" He hissed, looking him over.

"They didn't do anything! I'm the one that–" he squeezed his eyes closed, tears slipping down his cheeks as he set his utensils down and buried his face in his hands.

"After what happened at Stygga, I ran. I got the hell out and ran and started on my own Path. I found Gweld– long story short there, I killed him. Tore him up and may have gone a little... crazy and killed all the witnesses, but anyway!" He cleared his throat, wiping at his face to look back to Aiden, pupils rounding out a little.

"I met one of the then surviving Wolves on a contract. Dropped from a tree and threatened his life and then went on to rescue some village girls together. Went our separate ways but we kept meeting up, I kept threatening him with a blade to his throat and he kept... coming back anyway." He sighed, averting his gaze.

"So you fell for the idiot? Let him take you home?" Aiden asked, softening a little. "Gweld never cared to show you off. Never even personally met the whoreson." He sighed, offering his hand out to his brother. 

"Dear buttercup, what happened? Did you kill this one? Why?"

"Of course I– well, I mean... I developed _feelings_ for him. Strong ones. But because of everything that happened between myself and Gweld, I kept a little distance for a long time. Stayed wary. But, yes... unlike Gweld, Geralt– that... that was his name," he swallowed, feeling tears in his eyes again. "Geralt wanted to show me off. Wanted me to meet his brothers and his elder and show me where he lived. So... I went. Not going to turn down a warm place to stay, you know?"

He paused to take a hefty drink from his mulled wine, the warmth from the drink and from the alcohol settled pleasantly in his body before he continued, taking Aiden's hand.

"I... have episodes where I forget myself. My past with Gweld haunts me and I lose myself in the scared, lovesick idiot that I was with him. I let myself– ...you wouldn't have been proud of me, because I certainly am not proud of who I was," he was rambling, going away from the point because he was so scared to admit it out loud. Admit that he– That Geralt was–

"Jaskier, love, I've seen you at your worst. You—" he looked around, lowering his voice to barely a whisper. "You massacred a whole building of people. A little impressed, but I'll never be disappointed in you." He squeezed the man's hand. 

"Tell me about Geralt. What happened? Why are you wandering about with your feet up a rabbit's ass?"

Jaskier felt his cheeks warm slightly, from Aiden's words besides the mulled wine.

"I was growing closer and closer to him throughout the winter. I kicked his brother's ass in a sparring match, taught his other brother about throwing daggers, taught their elder some of our decoctions– did you know catswort affects us as it does actual felines?" He asked, tilting his head slightly. "Found out the hard way, myself, but I took down a deer while completely out of my mind and impressed the small pack of Wolves," he laughed, before the smile fell away again, his eyes going so sad.

"I shared a bath with Geralt, and he didn't look to me any differently because of what I hold beneath my clothes. Still loved me, still wanted to take things at my pace. He didn't touch or look at me any differently... we kissed, for the first time, the day before– ...and then I had a nightmare, about Gweld. A nightmare of him attacking me, and I panicked, I attacked because I smelled Wolf and I just lashed out–" his voice caught, getting choked up. He brought his other hand to his mouth to contain a sob the best he could. "There was so much blood, Aiden... so much blood... I... my Geralt... I didn't mean to but I—"

...and just when they had been talking of a future together. Their little cabin in the woods, warm and cozy and all theirs. A place to really go home to...

"I ran. I ran so fast and so far from their keep... He told me more than once he would be more than happy to die at my hand, so long as I do him the honor of looking him in the eye– I didn't even grant him that. I didn't know it was...him."

Aiden got up, moving to sit next to Jaskier, wrapping an arm around him, holding him to his chest. 

"He's... oh I'm so sorry, my love." He whispered,resting their heads together. "And what of his brothers? Think they'll come after you?" He asked, wanting to keep _his_ brother safe.

He curled against Aiden, tears slipping down his cheeks.

"I don't know, I don't know. I mean, I doubt they would leave from Kaer Morhen until the end of winter. Not even to find me, chase me down. But I... I don't doubt they might try to find me once spring comes. A big part of me wants to let them, but obviously the bigger part of me has been doing his foolish best to survive."

"You'll stick with me then. At least for a while." Aiden promised, pulling Jaskier tight. "I've got some coin and some diagrams. Get you some armor made up. Get my hands on a few stolen daggers, you'll be good as new." He patted his back. "Until then, let's get us a room. A nights rest and maybe some feeling back in your toes."

Carefully he leaned up, pressing a soft kiss to Aiden's cheek, relaxing against his familiar form and his even more familiar scent.

"I'll owe you," he replied softly, not having even an ounce of fight in him to attempt to turn down what Aiden was offering.

He needed new clothes. Needed shoes again instead of furs. Needed his damn daggers if he couldn't have his short swords.

...he missed his lute.

"Thank you, dearheart, truly. I wouldn't be long for this world if it weren't for you. Was on my last bit of self preservation and fucks to give."

"You always owe me one. Still think you owe me for that drink we had back in Novigrad almost two decades ago." He teased, standing Jaskier up and moving to get him a room. 

He undressed himself well enough, just down to his underclothes and shirt, settling in to the bed. "Got you a bath. Should be on the other side of the room there. Said they just filled it, so get in while it's hot."

"Ah shut up you– I've surely gotten you back for Novigrad by now! No? Well fuck, guess I'll just owe you another, then," he grinned, the expression still not reaching his eyes as he slipped out of Geralt's tunic, his basically ruined breeches and his nightgown that was still underneath it all.

He climbed himself into the tub and whined when the lovely hot water touched his chilled skin. He sank himself up to the neck in it, having difficulty breathing with that pressure on his chest and the heat of it all but by the sweet gods it was glorious.

"You going to bathe too, or just sit pretty over there while you watch and tell me of your adventures without me?"

Aiden hummed, getting himself up and undressed before lowering himself into the water with Jaskier, facing him. Just like they'd done years ago as kids. 

"I always sit pretty. As for my adventures, I've taken it quite vanilla lately. Though a rather important man who owned a bank employed my favor. I have much what I've picked up from him and a little from what he'd paid me as well. So consider tonight on me. Feeling a little generous." He laughed playfully, resting his feet up on the legs to the side of Jaskier's head.

"You always did find the good, high paying jobs," Jaskier hummed, nudging Aiden with his foot. "I went more for the jobs where I would have the most fun. Assassinations were my strong suit," he smirked, leaning his head back.

"...thank you for this, my dearest. Truly... I was indebted to you before but this is... far more than I could ever repay. But I shall try."

He and Aiden had always been close– he was the one that Jaskier clung to even before the trials, and certainly after they were over.

"Not for you to worry about. Seeing you alive might be payment enough." Aiden smirked, wiggling his toes against Jaskier's ear. "We'll see how much trouble you bring me first though." 

He relaxed back, enjoying a soak, pleased to see his old friend again. "I have missed you. Not sure how many of us there are left. Me and you, I've heard of two others committing assassinations. Though, I'm sure that's about all we'll be good for anymore. Assassins and spies." He huffed, crossing his arms in the water.

"I'll have you know I've been taking usual monster duties, as well as playing my lute in taverns," he huffed, sitting up to swat lightly at Aiden's foot.

"Geralt convinced me I should play, and I did, for quite a few places we stopped. Might have done a bit of wooing, as well, but then, well...I might be done with all that," he laughed bitterly, shaking his head. "Everyone I love I end up killing so, perhaps love isn't quite in the cards for me," he looked across to Aiden, nudging him again. "Sure you want to take me with you, my sweet? Might kill you because I love you so dearly."

"You don't love me. Not like you love your mutts." He teased, flicking water at Jaskier's face. "I've known you far longer and you've not killed me yet. I'd like to see you try." He grinned, standing out of the tub, moving to lay in the bed. "Should have your clothes laundered for you. If you need to wear something to sleep you can borrow something of mine."

"I do too love you! But, yes, just... not like–" he waved a hand, sighing as he climbed from the tub, his body feeling rather like jelly. The utter exhaustion of running and spending so much time being cold and miserable and not sleeping was catching up to him now that he was safe.

"If it's all the same to you, I think I'll wear my tunic and sleep until I'm dead," he rubbed at his eyes, moving over to the bed, wrapped in a towel. He flopped into it and easily fell right to sleep, too overexhausted to even try to keep himself awake.

Aiden would never hurt him, wouldn't try anything. He was safe.

He dreamt that night of his sweet pup, safe and sound as well, in their little cozy cabin.

________________________________

Eskel and Lambert took turns traveling with Geralt, too afraid he'd let something happen to himself. It was bad when he and the sorceress had split, but this was far worse. He barely ate, hardly trained, and he was getting thinner as the days went. All he wanted to do was sleep. It felt more like babysitting than accompanying their brother. 

After months of this, he finally began eating regularly again, though he hardly spoke anymore. He was at least a bit more useful when it came to taking his own contracts, still they didn't want to leave him alone.

_________________________________

The sight of another Witcher was enough to put Aiden  
on edge, but the sight of two walking into town was just obnoxious. He was here first, and he wasn't giving up such a high profile contract to brutes. Not that they were pretty enough to grace the nobels court anyway.

Spotting the medallion, Lambert's eyes narrowed onto the other Witcher in the town he and Geralt were walking into. He pressed a hand to Geralt's arm, staying his brother a moment.

"Stay, let me handle whatever this is," he murmured, giving his arm a gentle squeeze before crossing to the Cat.  
"Not looking for trouble, Cat, just for jobs. Any here that you aren't taking on?"

Geralt shot his brother a look, wanting him to behave himself. He watched him approach, eyes going wide at the medallion, desperately wanting to ask him if he knew Jaskier. He stayed put, could ask once his brother had finished. 

"Get lost mutt!" Aiden shouted, going on the defensive before hearing his words, freezing and blinking at them. "Wait a minute, are you actually being nice to me?" He asked, tilting his head. He looked him over, a handsome thing, tall and broad. 

Maybe Jaskier wasn't all that wrong about these dogs after all. "Come sniffing for work then? And all you ask for is my scraps?" He asked curious, yet playful. Not quite trusting the man just yet.

Lambert smirked lightly, raising a brow himself. "All you pretty kitties got bite to em?" He asked, closing his eyes and wincing at his own words, biting the inside of his cheek.  
Stupid.

"As I said– not looking to start any trouble with or for you, but yeah. If you know of work here that you haven't or aren't taking, it'd be appreciated if we could take it on instead," he looked over the Cat curiously, appreciating his beautiful– _seriously?_ – long hair and those nice scars on the arm showing beneath armor.

"If there's nothing, we understand and we'll move on come morning."  
He threw a glance back towards Geralt, partially just checking to see he was still there and that he hadn't run off to go do anything stupid. But his brother's eyes were fixed on the Cat's medallion, and he felt a pang in his chest for him, catching the scent of his sadness on the wind.

"...also, wondering if you might have any information. On a fellow kitty."

Aiden tilted his head, looking the man over before looking to the other Witcher. White Wolf. He'd heard of him, whispers and rumors. But this was much more than that. That was Jaskier's pup. There he stood. 

"There's a tavern near here. I think I'd like you to buy me a drink." He hummed, tilting his chin up and turning. "Coming along, mutt?" He asked over his shoulder, seeing the interest in his eyes.

His pupils rounded as he blinked, watching the Cat turn and walk away from them. Swallowing, Lambert turned and gestured for Geralt to follow as the Cat led them to the nearby tavern.

With the coin he had, Lambert paid for a round of drinks for the three of them, and some food for Geralt. He'd started eating again and both he and Eskel were taking every chance they could to get him back up to strength.

"So then, pretty thing, have a name, or am I just to call you kitty cat all night until we surely must part ways?" Lambert asked after the trio settled into a back table together. "I'm Lambert."

"What's to say we have to part ways tonight, puppy dog?" Aiden teased, taking a long sip from his beer. The other wolf had gotten up and sat a different table so they could talk on their own. He was eating and playing cards with a different patron, though he kept looking over, desperation and heartbreak in his eyes. Something in him believing Jaskier had left him.

"Name's Aiden." He said simply, his attention going back. "And he's Geralt, isn't he?"

"Coming on to me, you beautiful thing?" He felt his heart flutter and oh gods, this is what Geralt felt like about Jaskier wasn't it? This stupid heart of his– wait...

"How did you know that he was–?" His eyes widened a little, his breath catching because surely Geralt was listening, he could hear his brother's heart from here.

"...do you know Jaskier? Is that how you know–" he gestured towards Geralt with his head.

All this time, and they run into a Cat and of course he would know Jaskier, wouldn't he? He wasn't sure if this was good news or bad, if it would poorly effect all the progress Geralt had made, or would help.  
Gods, but...all these Cats sure were pretty too, weren't they?

"Thought he was dead. If he was, well, you certainly do employ a very good necromancer." Aiden smiled, leaning against the table. "Yes, I know his kitten. Yes, he is alive and quite well, considering." He rested his chin in his hand.

Lambert felt his breath catch on a laugh. "Jaskier thought Geralt was–" he covered his mouth to silence a snort. "That fucking drama queen, he thought he killed that big beast? I mean, I know he's good– he took me to the ground, but..." he shook his head, glancing back towards Geralt.

"I'm glad he's alright. Do you happen to know his whereabouts? Where we could find him?" He asked, knowing his idiotic brother would like to go chase after his kitten. "I'll happily owe you another drink."

Geralt wasn't even pretending not to listen at this point, looking at them with wide eyes. 

"Why should I tell you? Hmm?" Aiden asked, turning to Lambert. "He thinks he killed that poor sap. If he sees you walking up to him, you're next. No way." He huffed, crossing his arms and shaking his head. "Not only that but I don't know where he is exactly. He and I parted ways over a week ago. Could be anywhere." He was starting to get a little defensive, afraid they might be angry at Jaskier for hurting him. He jumped when Geralt was up and at the table, moved so quick. 

"Please. Please you have to tell me. I'll give you all the coin and valuables I have." He looked down at the Cat with wide eyes. He needed to find Jaskier.

He sighed, rolling his eyes as he gestured towards the fool standing beside their table. " _This_ , this is why I ask, and this is why I need to know, gorgeous. Otherwise this big idiot is going to go scour the entire Continent dragging me along with him," Lambert furrowed his brow, running a hand over his face.

"So please, beautiful, any information you might have, I'll buy you as many drinks as you like. Perhaps you could even come with us...?"

He didn't really want to part ways with Aiden yet...

"Flattery gets you nowhere, mutt. Pretty words are nothing new when you look like I do." He hissed, though there was sincerity in his eyes. 

Aiden looked Geralt over, thinking about it. "Alright fine. I'll do it for him." He pointed to the whimpering puppy. 

"But not tonight. Rent yourselves a room here so I know where to find you in the morning. I'm on a job and I'd rather not leave with it unfinished." He huffed, throwing back his drink, moving to get up.

"Thank you, Aiden, truly," Lambert smiled, not at all deterred by the sharp of Aiden's words or the hiss from his lips. "Come on, Geralt, let's get us a room and we'll go looking for your kitten tomorrow, hm?"

He pushed himself to his feet, downing his drink and putting his cup to the table. "Sleep well, kitty cat. See you bright and early in the morning," he added with a smile and a wink, before he directed Geralt upstairs to a room that he paid for.

Geralt paced for a majority of the night, going back down to the tavern, buying himself a few drinks. He'd be fine come morning but he needed to take the edge off his nerves. He was worried Jaskier wouldn't even want to see him. What if he'd grown away from him? 

He was waiting downstairs come morning. He hadn't given up on wanting to find Jaskier. Hadn't given up hope he was still alive.

With Geralt being a nervous ball of energy, Lambert hadn't really gotten much sleep either, but he had stayed upstairs until the sun rose in the sky. Making his way downstairs, the lack of sleep was obvious in the irritated furrow of his brow. He sat at one of the tables, waiting his brother pace as they waited for Aiden to join them.

"Will you _PLEASE_ sit your ass down, Geralt? You're going to wear a path in the floor as you are wearing a path in my nerves," Lambert growled, rubbing at his temples.

_________

At that very moment, a certain red-clad Cat with deep blue eyes was singing his way into a court in Novigrad, his eyes shining with excitement as he played the new lute he'd won in a game of Gwent not two days prior– Aiden had helped him get a lute during their time together, but the one he currently held was of a far finer quality, more suitable for this courtly position.

He still thought of his sweet Geralt, and when the nights settled, he sang sweeping ballads of him, and the sorrow in his heart. There were many across the Continent that knew the name _'White Wolf'_ because of him and because of his songs. It made him happy that, though his pup was gone, and the other Wolves may hunt him, he was paying some honor to his late love's life.

_________

Geralt sat down for a moment before he was up pacing again, shooting his brother an apologetic look.

Aiden strolled in a grin on his face as he saw the two Wolves waiting for him. "Good morning, dears!" He greeted, looking to Geralt pacing. "We ought to leave rather quickly. I was quite the busy boy last night." He turned, leading the way out.

Lambert could feel the tug on his heart and _fuck_ he already had it bad, damn it all.

"My my, what did you get yourself up to last night?" Lambert asked as he dragged Geralt with him, to keep the fool from trying to rush off ahead when they didn't even know where they were going.  
He supposed, like some sort of tracking mutt, his brother might be able to find Jaskier if they got close enough he picked up on his kitten's scent but right now, Aiden was their best chance.

"Whatever it is, you seem wonderfully pleased about it," he added, his earlier agitation dying down some, just at the bright presence of this pretty kitty.

_________

For hours Jaskier played and sang his heart out for the nobles of the court here, dancing around the large room. He was propositioned more than a few times, but his eyes were on one of the men in particular, one who was eyeing him, and had been eyeing him a long while, but had not made a move.

_________

Aiden laughed, the sound joyful and light. "Well, let's just say my job is done, my pockets are heavy and my purse is about to get much, much heavier!" He flashed a grin, quickly moving out of town. 

"Think you boys are ready for a bit of travel? We're going to Novigrad." He offered, turning, walking backwards and facing them. "Maybe I could get you to carry a few of my new possessions for me? They are ever so heavy and you both look like a couple of big, strong men!" He put on a flirty pout, looking right at Lambert, knowing he was the one to have a little crush. He was sure Geralt would do anything, possibly even carry him, if it meant finding his Jaskier.

His laugh was like music, bright and wonderful to Lambert's ears. His cute little flirty pout was a sin, surely.  
But gods he was good at playing to all his attributes; must be a fucking Cat thing. Teach them how to use every good thing they have going for them to give them an edge in the world, or what?

Lambert grumbled, bringing his bag around. "Put whatever you need to in here, I'll carry whatever is too heavy for you, princess," he hummed, a little quirk of a smirk to his lips, his pupils going a bit round as he looked at the pretty kitty, so deftly walking backwards.

He wasn't personally the most graceful? So if he attempted that, for this length of time, he'd surely fall on his ass.

"Novigrad though, huh? Haven't been there in some years. Why Novigrad?"

_________

When he earned himself a break, Jaskier moved towards the table his target was sitting at, feeling the man's eyes follow him as he grabbed something to drink.  
When he felt he had given it a good moment, he moved over to sit across from the man, whose name was Florian.

"Enjoying the show, dear? I couldn't help but notice that your eyes haven't left me all night."

_________

"If I'm the princess, you must be the brave knight then? Where's the shining armor?" Aiden teased lightly, pretending to look throughly as he filled Lambert's bag. "Have you even got two florens to rub together?" He teased, rubbing the fabric of Lambert's shirt between his fingers. "Though, you do have a better sense of style then the handsome White Wolf!" He laughed, looking to Geralt apologetically. "Sorry, gorgeous. But you do look all business."

Geralt rolled his eyes, knowing that if he wanted to get to Jaskier he'd have to deal with his brother's failed attempts at flirting. 

_________

"Hard to tear my eyes away. Think it might be fair to say you're the most beautiful man in Novigrad." He hummed, leaning toward the smaller man. "Buy you a drink? Something nicer than that?"

_________

He felt his load get considerably heavier as his cheeks warmed and he tried not to stare at Aiden as he touched at his shirt and bantered back to him easily.  
It was like sparring, but with words. And... he wasn't great with words, and the last spar he had with a Cat ended with his balls being a bit sore for a while.

_....don't even go there, Lambert._

"My armour's shinier than his, at the very least, so you have got to give me that," Lambert huffed. "I pride myself with being the best dressed Wolf, and I thank you for noticing."  
He could almost feel Geralt's agitation at having to deal with the pair of them– or perhaps he was only irritated at Lambert, and not the pretty kitty, helping them to find his kitten.

"Anyway, just because you're a princess, doesn't mean I'm saying you can't handle yourself, because if you're anywhere near as good as Jaskier, i know damn well that you could lay me flat out, easy."

_________

"Don't think you need to buy the drinks here, my good sir. They sort of come with being at the party. Unless– are you inviting me to join you elsewhere?" He asked with a bit of a raised brow, not at all surprised by this turn of events, but pleased he had gained the man's interests easily enough.

_________

"Hmm? Laying you flat out?" Aiden smirked, tapping his lips in playful thought. "Perhaps I might like you to spend a little time on your back. Or do you prefer on your hands and knees?" He purred into his ear, smelling the arousal on the Wolf. He broke away, laughing again as he went over to talk to Geralt about Jaskier. 

_________

"Would you be willing to come elsewhere with me? I have a better stock of wine at my home." He offered, letting his hand come to rest at the young man's wrist.

_________

Fuck.  
Fuck fuck fuck.  
That smirk, his pretty and very kissable lips and the way his voice against his ear sent shivers through Lambert.

_Fuck._

He wanted to give an answer, but knew he'd say something stupid like _'yes'_ or _'what about just on my knees?'_ or any other number of foolish things that would only do to dig him deeper into this hole he found himself in with the Cat.  
So, on he walked, letting the heat in his cheeks and the heat in his grin figure itself out while Geralt and Aiden spoke of Jaskier. On they walked, an agonizingly long walk ahead of them.

_________

Jaskier's gaze flicked to the hand at his wrist before flicking back to the man's face, a small smile tugging at his own lips.  
"Well, I feel I would be played for quite the fool if I said no to such a lovely offer as that. So, do lead on, my dear, and I shall follow after."

_________

Aiden sighed, huffing as the walk was starting to leave him tired. He blinked, surprised when Geralt suggested they stop for a break. Then suggested he go off for a while. Bag a deer or two, busy himself. In all honesty, he was sure Geralt needed a moment to cope that Jaskier was still alive.

Geralt had remembered how often Cat's needed rest, more than himself. He also wanted to get away from his brother for a short while. 

_________

"I can get you a whole bottle to your own. So, what's your poison, gorgeous?" He asked, running his fingers up his wrist. "Perhaps you like treats as well?"

_________

Lambert watched Geralt disappear into the treeline, a sigh leaving him as he leaned against one of the more standalone trees.

"I know he's happy that Jaskier isn't dead. He was so sure... so sure that his kitten had died in the cold and snow. He was so mad at us when we didn't find Jaskier and bring him back the night it happened, but... you Cat's aren't to be underestimated in anything."  
Lambert's voice was soft, quiet as he spoke.  
"...but he's also wrestling with the questions of why Jaskier didn't come back, why he left... they're a mess, the both of them. Dramatic," he added with a bit of a laugh. "How do you think the reunion will go?"

_________

"Temerian Red, or vodka," Jaskier replied honestly, closing his eyes to pretend he enjoyed the feeling of the man's fingers trailing up from his wrist. He even added a little hitch of his breath, to really sell it.  
"What sorts of treats did you have it mind?"

_________

Aiden laughed again, a bit of a snort to the end of it. "Dramatically, honestly. Jaskier thinks he killed Geralt. An accident I assure you. Thinks you and your brothers would be out for him. Revenge." He explained, sitting himself down on a fallen tree. "Geralt seems to be a sweet man. Any of his brothers similar?" He looked at Lambert with a playful challenge. 

_________

"Ah! How wonderful! A lovely, courtly young thing, with the taste for street alcohol!" He laughed, stepping closer to him. "My name is, Florian. And dear, I've the coin to get you any treats you like. Care for chocolates? Could feed you chocolates while I make you feel so so good."

_________

"While Jaskier was with us, Vesemir– that's our elder– was helping him work through some things. Was teaching him meditation and other methods to work through all the... past trauma he is dealing with," he sighed, bringing a hand up to pick at his nails idly, giving himself something to focus on while he spoke to the pretty Cat, watching him. "At first, I'll admit, the thought crossed at least my mind that Jaskier did it purposefully, but it was only a split second thought, and especially when Geralt said he had been having one of his episodes...? He knew it was an accident, and he needed us to know it too," he smiled down at the ground.  
"Geralt's the best of us, I'm afraid, and if you tell him I said so I will hunt you down to the best of my ability. He moves with his heart more often than he does with his head, always has, but..." Lambert shrugged.  
"Anyway, other than Geralt, there's only me and Eskel, unless older is more your thing, princess," he teased lightly in reply, smirking.

_________

"Been a very long time since I've had chocolates. Fruits are just as lovely and sweet as well," Jaskier hummed, figuring he could at least get something out of this shit show.  
He reached up to brush his fingertips against the man's jaw.  
"Shall we... make ourselves scarce?"

_________

"I do love a man more experience, wielding his swords." Aiden teased with a smirk. "We'll find him. I promise that. He's working a job, but we'll find him."

_________

Florian hummed, leaning into the touch, grabbing Jaskier's hand. "I think we shall, follow me. I'm not far from here. Nice little place I'm renting near the river. You'll quite like it there." He hummed, leading him out.

_________

Lambert nearly choked, stumbling away from the tree he was leaning against, clearing his throat. His cheeks were warm as he averted his eyes.  
"What sort of job? The sort like you accomplished and left you heavy with new possessions and prospective coin?"

_________

He could smell the awful arousal wafting off of Florian, but Jaskier followed him out all the same. It wouldn't go far enough that he needed worry, but it was sickening all the same.

"The river views are quite lovely..." he found himself saying as he followed the man to his rented home.

_________

"Perhaps. He was without everything he'd owned. So he does need to earn back his coin." Aiden smirked, looking the Wolf over. "Little murder got you squeamish?" He asked, crossing his legs and leaning back comfortably. 

_________

Florian hummed, letting his hand wander down the mans back, resting on his ass a moment before running up his back, to his neck. "Here we are. Why don't we get a little comfortable, hmm? Have a few drinks? I'll be right back with your little snack."

_________

He swallowed thickly, his pupils going narrow before rounded again, his gaze drifting back across to Aiden.  
"Not exactly," he muttered, clearing his throat again as he straightened himself back up, leaning against the tree again.

_________

The way the man's hands moved over the plane of his body made him want to squirm, to hiss and bite and beat– but he had to keep this up a little longer. Just long enough–

"Sounds wonderful to me, my dear, absolutely," he hummed, finding a seat once they'd made it inside the man's rented home.

_________

"So what about it bothers you?" Aiden asked curiously, leaning forward a bit, tilting his head to the side. He jumped when Geralt came back dropping down a couple of deer. 

He said nothing as he started to work on the deer, cutting out the heart and liver to give to Aiden. He was still terribly anxious about finding Jaskier. What if he didn't want him anymore? What if he was different? What had he done that had set Jaskier off? Would they have to start all over again? He went to work, butchering the animals for his company to eat, finding that he himself wasn't really hungry. 

_________

Florian came back with the fruits and chocolates, as well as their drinks. "Would you like to take this upstairs my dear?"

_________

He didn't get to tell Aiden that the part that bothered him, at least from what he knew from the few stories they'd eeked out of Jaskier, was how close they got to being in real danger before finally taking the life they were contracted to take.  
Where any wrong step could mean their head instead of their targets.

And of course, both Aiden and Jaskier were pros by this point, had taken lives by contract any countless times, but... but Lambert found he fucking _cared_ , now, and he hated it.

So he sat himself down with Aiden and Geralt and ate, looking to his brother when he wasn't eating.  
"You're not eating, so what's eating you?"

_________

"My, how forward," he teased softly, even as he picked himself up to his feet and nodded. "Lead and I shall follow darling. Would you like me to take anything from you to help?"

_________

"Its Jaskier." Geralt answered, shrugging. "I feel like were close... I can even smell him on Aiden and I just can't help but think..." he stopped and shrugged, not wanting to talk about it with his brother. 

_________

Florian smirked, handing the man his drink, leading the way. "You never did give me a name. Or is Dandelion your name you'd prefer?"

_________

Lambert furrowed his brow, putting a gentle hand on his brother's arm. "Geralt, he thought he'd killed you. He was terrified of that, and terrified we would hunt him down to exact revenge. He ran because of that, not..." he sighed, giving his brother's arm a gentle squeeze. "When we find him, because we will, I'm sure he will be ecstatic to see you."

_________

Jaskier took his drink in hand, even took a sip as he followed the man up the stairs and towards what he could only assume to be a bedroom.  
"I do prefer Dandelion, yes. It's my stage name of course, but... my real name is so dull and I'm running from it anyway."

_________

"I guess." Geralt shrugged, looking down at his hands. "I just miss him, that's all." He sighed heavily, watching the both of them eat. 

_________

"How boring a name could you have?" Florian chuckled, setting the treats down on the table. "Please, eat up. I'm going to make myself comfortable."

_________

"And what, you think he doesn't miss you...?" Lambert asked, knowing it was surely the most outrageous thing.  
Jaskier cared so deeply for Geralt, and had clearly talked about him since Aiden knew of him.

_________

Jaskier moved himself to the table, taking a chocolate between his lips, savoring the sweet and bitter taste of it, his eyes rolling back.

_________

Aiden smiled sadly at the pair, listening in to their conversation. He didn't interrupt, didn't want to be rude. Of course Jaskier would be happy to see him. Might be the happiest he'd ever see him. 

It wasn't until they were on their way again, Geralt offering to carry Aiden, the doll, so he could sleep on their way to Novigrad. He refused, but did continue on. 

"You're good to your brother, you know. You both must care deeply for each other." He whispered into his ear, quiet enough that Geralt wouldn't hear him. "I do see Jaskier's appeal to you Wolves. Mutts as you may be." 

_________

"That good darling? Oh you're going to look so good with your lips around my cock." Florian breathed, slowly taking his clothes off for the other man. "Do this often? Or am I another of your treats?"

_________

The whisper of Aiden's breath against his skin set him to a shiver as he swallowed heavily. "Surely you understand what it is to grow up with your brothers– all you have is each other. I'm the youngest, but that means fuck all. Geralt is the one with the biggest heart, and so, I do my best to protect it. That dumb heart of his," Lambert grinned and shrugged. "But as of late, I've found my heart being just as dumb as his," he added softly, glancing to Aiden for a moment before feeling warmth in his cheeks. He cleared his throat and looked ahead towards their destination.

_________

Jaskier turned, popping a piece of fruit between his lips, sucking at it for the juice, not mind that something slipped down to his chin.  
It was a show for Florian, because he was learning bit by bit that the man was all about enjoyment.  
"Probably the best treat, my sweet."

_________

Geralt rolled his eyes, though he was hopeful for his brother. He knew a Cat made a good partner. Fun banter, good fighter, though questionable in their contracts, they did have interesting stories. He was eager to find his kitten and find him quick. He could see the walls of the city in the distance, his heart already racing in his chest. 

_________

Florian watched the juice drip down Dandelion's chin. Leaning in to lick it up, press their lips together. He grabbed him by his doublet, pulling him to the bed. "What a pretty thing you are..."

_________

Geralt's anxious energy was almost suffocating and Lambert couldn't help the chuckle as he looked towards his brother. "Caught any scent of him yet, Geralt?" He called lightly, though it was rather genuine.

_________

Jaskier yelped quietly, being tugged to the bed, those lips leaving him only to say–

~~_'What a pretty thing you are, pussy cat.'_ ~~  
_'You're the prettiest kitty I've ever seen...'_

He felt a rage bubble in his chest, and he moved in a flash, a hand to the man's throat as he pinned him to the bed and reached from the dagger fastened to his lower back.  
"You don't know the half of it, you sick fucking son of a whore."

_________

The scent of Jaskier was growing stronger, though it was lacking the lavender. Perhaps he'd changed to something else? The thought of it stung, though he couldn't blame him. He'd switched when the memory become too painful. 

_________

Florian looked up at him with wide eyes, struggling against him, pushing against the strength of the Witcher, slapping weakly at his shoulders.

Jaskier pressed, squeezed, his pupils going to thin slits as he bared his teeth, clenching them. "A shame, really... this was fun– and the drink was wonderful, the chocolate and fruits divine... but nothing quite overcomes the absolute treat it is to watch lives like yours fizzle out under my capable hands, darling," he sighed, almost dreamily. "Even more wonderful that you did me the favor of stripping already," he grinned devilishly, showing off those lovely sharp cuspids of his.

A breeze brought with it familiar scents– one was very much Aiden, teakwood and leaves. But the other smell...  
His pupils went a little round, his grip on the man going slightly lax as his heart fluttered his excitement.

Cedarwood and ash, iron and leather, and that just before the rain smell.

_Geralt._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooh~ Another cliffhanger!  
> 😈


	13. Chapter 13

Florian saw his opportunity, gasping for air, pushing against the man above him, still struggling. He looked around, the life fading from him, suffocated. 

Geralt could smell him. He almost couldn't bare to stand, his steps faltering as he followed it. Forgetting about Aiden and Lambert he pushed himself forward, scent growing stronger the closer he got. 

He'd taken on new scents. Incense and wine, resin, and deep rich perfume. But there underneath it all he smelt of forest. Tree bark and leaves, sap and the breeze of spring flowers. 

It was him. It was him and he was here and he froze.

Feeling the man beneath him struggle was the only thing that pulled Jaskier from his daze, and, growing impatient now with how long strangling this pathetic piece of a man was taking, he simply snarled and snapped the man's neck with ease.

Less subtle, and not the route he would usually go, because this certainly would be less easy to pass as a sexual accident, but... love does awfully stupid things to a being's brain.  
When the man went limp and boneless, Jaskier rolled his eyes and wriggled himself free from his lap, moving to gather the treats of sustenance to stow them away for later. He looted some of the good alcohol, too, shoving it and some valuables into his bag before slipping from the house, looking around and lifting his nose to the breeze.

He blinked, pupils blown as he caught the scent again, closer. It was impossible that Geralt was here, was alive, but... but foolishly he wanted to believe.  
He missed his pup so much and–

Just there, down the way, he caught a glimpse of long white hair and his heart stopped, seeing the figure standing there in the road.

Geralt.  
His Geralt.  
Dressed in his signature all dark clothes, his beautiful white hair tied back by a strip of leather.

Jaskier felt his eyes water as his breath trembled in his lungs, unable to speak his name, and unable to move from where he was.

Geralt.

Geralt turned to look at him, his scent having grown so strong. Wide eyes stared at him, his feet refusing to move though his whole body shook. 

He couldn't believe he was stood here in front of him. So close but so terrible far. Every insecurity playing on loop in his mind. 

"Jaskier..." 

It was breathed, but it was enough. It was all he could offer.

Hearing his name, so softly, even at this distance, Jaskier wanted to drop to his knees and sob. It was like seeing a ghost, and for a moment, for an awful, excruciating moment he thought maybe that's all he was.  
A ghost, taunting him.  
But the scent that wafted on the breeze was real, the sound of his heart, his breathing, all real.

With a broken sob, Jaskier moved towards him, slow at first, then a jog, and finally he was running– running like his whole life depended on crossing this distance and being in his pup's arms.

"Geralt–!" He sobbed as he tackled himself against the man, arms wrapping around him as he cried.

Geralt caught him, staring at him with wide eyes, his mouth hardly able to move. His arms wrapped tightly around him, burying his face into Jaskier's neck, breathing him in and breaking into a sob. 

He fell to his knees, unable to stand. He hadn't realized how tired he was, how much he had hurt. How numb he had grown. Not until Jaskier was here. 

And he was. He was really here. This wasn't a dream; in his dreams he was far more romantic, telling his dear thing sweet words how much he'd missed him. But now it was like he'd been struck dumb.

They fell together, Jaskier allowing himself to be dragged down to his knees right along with Geralt as they cried, sobbed against each other, both having thought the other to be lost from them.

He pawed mindlessly, aimlessly at Geralt's hair, the back of his neck, before wiping at his tears and caressing his cheek.

"Oh my darling, my love, my sweet pup... you're alive. And oh– oh my dearheart I'm so sorry, your eye–"

Geralt just clung to him, tears still falling from his face, desperate for words that just wouldn't come. 

Aiden ran up to the pair of them, looking them both over. He smiled, letting a hand come to rest on Lambert's chest, just watching Geralt struggle a moment before walking up to them.

Lambert looked to his brother and his found kitten, his own eyes watering a bit to see them together again. He smiled, and, unable to help himself, moved his hand to touch the one against his chest, briefly, before they were moving again.

"Good to see you again, kitty cat," Lambert breathed, breaking his own tension.

Jaskier hissed softly before looking up, quieting the sound as he saw Lambert and Aiden.  
He threw a curious look from Aiden to Lambert and back again, silent question written on his face before he focused on Geralt once more.

He carded his fingers through his pup's hair. "Geralt... my Geralt.."

Geralt leaned into the touch before letting his brother help him up. 

Aiden looked Jaskier over before having a look around. "Four witchers in the city of Novigrad, and two of us are heavy with hot items. Isn't exactly a good idea. Let's get out of here. You can finish your reunion in a bit." He hissed, grabbing for Jaskier's arm, pulling him along.

Jaskier whined, clutching at his bag and looking back to Geralt, Lambert helping him along just as Aiden was helping him.

"Aiden... Aiden you found him, you found my Geralt," he breathed, scrambling to take his fellow Cat's hand instead of being dragged by the arm unceremoniously through the streets.  
"Where are we going, precious? Will we set up camp in the trees off the road?"

Lambert practically carried Geralt along for a few moments before his brother gained some sense of autonomy back.  
"You good?" He asked quietly, watching Aiden with Jaskier.

Geralt just nodded, following Aiden anywhere as long as he was dragging Jaskier along behind him. 

"I own a house out here. Nothing big, but it'll do us for the night." He said simply, bringing them just outside the city's gates. "Don't look at me like that. It's always good to keep your coin somewhere." He hissed to Lambert who gave him a funny look about owning a home.

Even Jaskier gave him something of a surprised look. He had never thought Aiden to be the sort to settle anywhere, but to learn that he owned a house, somewhere near Novigrad?

Novigrad, one of the first places they had taken a contract together years and years ago.  
Novigrad, where Jaskier had nearly died on more than one occasion.  
Novigrad, where he'd slaughtered a room full of people to protect Aiden.

His fellow Cat was as much a sap as his pup, it seemed. And, had a pup of his own now, if Lambert's scent was anything to judge by.

He couldn't help the knowing smile as he moved with more purpose, following Aiden to the little house hidden amongst trees.

"Don't you look at me like that either, you." Aiden hissed to Jaskier, though it was warmer in tone. He could see what his brother was thinking. 

"You and Geralt can have a room of your own. A little privacy, though it seems the cats got his tongue." He teased, bumping his shoulder against Geralt. "Hope he's good at using it."

Jaskier's cheeks flushed a deep red as he swatted at Aiden, spluttering unintelligible nonsense as he whined.

Despite the protests, he was thankful when Aiden showed him and Geralt to a room to themselves, a decent ways separate from the rest of the house. He kissed Aiden's cheek before allowing him to close the door, leaving Geralt and Jaskier to their own.

"Think they'll be alright?" Lambert found himself asking when Aiden returned to the main part of the house. "They both seemed pretty shaken up..."

"You would too if the man you loved more than anything in the world– the world that he change your view of– came back from the dead." Aiden laughed, taking his things back from Lambert. "They'll be fine. I don't know Geralt, but I know Jaskier. They'll be fine."

Geralt sat down at the edge of the bed of the room they were given, looking at him with wide eyes. He still could hardly believe Jaskier was in front of him. He still couldn't decide on anything to say.

"He really does love Geralt then...?" He asked, knowing it to be a stupid question but he needed to really gear it, to know he was doing the right thing and wasn't the brother that broke Geralt for good.  
He watched Aiden move so seamlessly around the house– _a Witcher! Owning a house!_ – and found he was rather enamored.

Jaskier bit his lower lip, setting his bag aside before crossing the room towards Geralt, dropping to his knees in front of his Wolf.  
"Darling speak to me... please? Yell if you must. Curse, swear, spew venom, I'll take anything over silence, after so long..." he swallowed heavily, reaching hesitantly to take Geralt's hands in his. "I... I'm so sorry I hurt you, and ran away..."

"Haven't you loved anything other than yourself? A blind man could see Jaskier truly loves him. All you dogs are good for is sniffing and wagging your tongues then?" He teased lightly, settling the two of them in. 

Geralt watched him, wide eyes, pulling Jaskier's hands to his own shaking ones. His voice was rough, wanting to pull him up, wanting to wrap around him and never let go. Instead he leaned forward, gently resting their foreheads together. 

"I thought you died, kitten..."

"I love my brothers, but before this very moment in my life? No. I've never experienced love. Not like theirs. And Geralt has loved once before this, even," he replied easily, honestly, settling beside Aiden comfortably, not minding that he subtly admitted his growing feelings for the pretty kitty beside him.

The feel of Geralt's head against his was so much and simultaneously not enough. So long apart and this was all? But for the moment, it would suffice and he cherished it, because it had been so long without his touch, and he thought it would be forever.

"And I, you, pup," he breathed. "When I came back into myself from that nightmare, there was so much blood... I was so scared, so upset that I'd... I'd killed you, and had broken my promise to you. I hadn't looked you in the eyes while I did it," he did now, though. He looked into those molten amber eyes now, searching.

"Before now?" Aiden asked, leaning in with interest. "Whatever could have caught your attention, mutt?"

Geralt blinked, thinking a moment, lost in those blue eyes, a color he thought he'd only see in his dreams again. He laughed, realizing what Jaskier meant. "You almost made it too difficult to look me in the eyes. Damn near gouged this one out." He teased lightly, pulling his hands up to his lips. "Almost had to take that retirement plan seriously."

He felt his cheeks flush again, eyes rolling as he looked away from the lovely Cat leaning so closely to him.  
"The most beautiful and most dangerous princess I've ever had the pleasure to meet and honor to share the company of," he replied smoothly, despite the ache in his chest.

Jaskier whined and swatted at Geralt's cheek, his eyes watering a little. "I'm serious, you absolute donkey's ass!" He huffed, with very little venom and heat behind his words. "The one thing you bade me do, promise you, was that if I were the one to kill you, that I look you in the eyes as I did, and I didn't and I felt so fucking awful for all this time..."

"Good thing you didn't kill me then. Practice for the next time." Geralt teased, having absolutely missed him. "I've missed the abuse, kitten. No one is nearly as mean as you." He hummed, looking at him before pulling him up to his feet, not wanting him bent on the floor for long.

"Fucking masochist," he breathed, letting himself be pulled to his feet only to climb himself into Geralt's lap and wrap his arms around his darling pup.  
"Good gods, my darling, I have missed you more than words– although not for lack of trying," he grinned, nuzzling their noses together. "I have written and sang a good few songs all about you, you know... kept your tunic too, because I just couldn't be without some piece of you... I–" he swallowed, closing his eyes a moment.

He sat back a little as he opened his eyes, holding Geralt's face in his hands, needing to have his absolute attention for this.

"Geralt, my sweet pup... _I love you_."

Geralt's smile grew as he listened to Jaskier blab on and on about his time apart. Laughing at his admission of song. But when his face was cradled in gentle hands, guiding his eyes to sea blue, his breath caught at the sound of those words. 

His smile died away, shock and excitement settling into him. He just looked at Jaskier in awe for the moment.

The way his smile died made Jaskier's heart clench in his chest. Made him want to take the words back and hide himself away in some other room of Aiden's house.

...but Geralt's scent hadn't soured, or bittered. So, the disappearing of his smile was made all the more confusing when his scent sweetened instead, sharpened.

"...p-please say something, Geralt I–"

_I can't stand to say it and not have it returned again..._

Geralt just watched him a moment, his eyes watering at the words he'd waited so very long to hear.

"Oh kitten." He hummed, wrapping his arms around him, hating that sight of fear in his eyes, the scent of it on him. 

"Oh Jaskier, I love you too."

The returned affection was like a salve to every single wound he harbored in his all too broken mind.

_'Oh Jaskier, I love you too.'_

The truth was there in his eyes, and in how softly he spoke it, how earnestly he shared it.  
He already knew, of course, because Geralt had said it before, but he had needed to know, needed to know it was still true and now–

He buried his face into the crook of Geralt's neck, breathing him in as he let himself cry, _relieved_.

"I'm so sorry I hurt you, scarred you. So sorry you thought me dead. I'm so so sorry it took me so long to tell you in so many words how much it is that I love you, my sweet darling Geralt... I have hated this time away from you, apart from you, more than I have ever hated any thing, person, or place."

Geralt held Jaskier close, never wanting to let go of him again. "Its only a scar. You're here now." He breathed against him, letting his eyes shut, tears forced from them as he rested their heads together. 

"I've hated it too, but it's only time. We're both alive and we have each other now."

"We have each other now," Jaskier echoed quietly, like that, too, healed all his open and festering wounds.  
"So don't you dare let me go again, hm?" He breathed with a soft smile, a sniffle as he nuzzled their noses together.

"What do you say we ditch our brothers come the morning and go out on our Path together again?" He asked, a cheeky grin on his lips. "But we sleep in this bed, curled so close together for tonight."

"Ditch Lambert? Its like you know me or something." Geralt laughed, pushing a soft kiss to Jaskier's nose. 

"But sleep sounds fantastic. Not sure I've had much of that since you left." He smiled sheepishly, reaching up to tangle his fingers through unruly hair. 

"Help me get my armor off?" He asked hopefully, Jaskier was still in party clothes. A story for tomorrow.

"Me, know you? Not likely," he teased lightly as he helped Geralt free from his slightly stiff armor, dragging his fingers over every bit of skin he uncovered with every piece removed.

"Care to assist me, my darling, or shall I be removing my own clothes tonight?" He asked, a smile on his lips as he already worked free buttons from holes, freeing himself of his red doublet Aiden had helped to pick out.

"You always do look so good in red..." Geralt hummed, letting his fingers linger over the hem of Jaskier's doublet. "Would be a shame to see it off." He teased, carefully removing his clothes, letting his fingers trace over a soft belly, up to his bindings before looking for permission, leaving them for now to help remove the trousers. 

He stood in his own underclothes, waiting for Jaskier to decide if he'd be wearing anything else to bed.

Blue eyes slid to look up at his Witcher, searching for a moment over the lovely planes of his body. With trembling hands, Jaskier moved to undo his bindings, let them fall to the floor where he also slipped free of his other underclothes.

"...still a shame to see it off, pup?" He breathed, trying to sound cocky, confident, but his voice shook with his vulnerability.

Geralt's heart picked up with interest, slowly looking Jaskier over, licking his lips nervously. "Not at all. Think I prefer this over the red any day." He breathed, hands shaking.

His eyes softened, looking up at Jaskier now, back into his blue eyes. "You're the most beautiful man I've ever seen, Jaskier."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Together again at last
> 
> and I'm sad to say, the next chapter (that I will post directly after this one goes up) is the Epilogue


	14. Epilogue

Sunlight streamed through the windows of their bedroom, bringing Jaskier to stirring with a soft whine. He buried his nose against the crook of Geralt's neck, breathing him in as he kneaded at his chest.

"I swear, _curtains_ , mutt. I've said it a million times and some damn day I'll remember to actually have you help me make some for that godsforsaken window," he growled, grumpy from being awoken after the lovely night they'd shared.

Geralt hummed, rolling against Jaskier, a soft kiss to the back of his neck. 

"I've told you once and I'll tell you a thousand times, kitten." He whispered, burying his face against his shoulders. "You put curtains on that window and I would never be able to get your lazy tail out of bed." He grinned, a gentle nip to his shoulder, pressing a kiss to it before slowly getting himself up.

He was lucky to have moved before Jaskier had the strength to swat him for saying such an awful and completely true thing.

"You could carry me from this bed of ours," he offered with a cheeky little grin, before yawning, his eyes watering at the edges. "...then again, that would give you even more license to call me lazy and I'll not have another reason for that," he grumbled, pushing himself up and out of bed, stumbling dramatically to lean against his still naked pup.

"Can't we just stay in bed? I thought that was a part of this lovely little daydream of yours."

"It is." Geralt laughed, wrapping his arms around Jaskier. They'd both grown a little soft, and he'd not change that one bit. 

"But it's not a daydream anymore, kitten. Even still I'm up after the sun's been out for hours." He teased, running his fingers up his spine. "Let's get you some breakfast and then you can try talking me back into bed, sound good?"

" _Try?_ Oh, my particularly precious pup, you _know_ I'll get you back into that bed after a good breakfast," he purred, pressing up on the balls of his feet to steal a kiss from his Wolf, a grin spreading his lips.

"But yes, it sounds like an excellent plan my sweetness," he teased, bumping their noses together. "Let's not delay– I'd like to get you back into bed before noon, otherwise you'll _never_ let us return."

Life was simple, living in their little home in the forest together. For a time, Jaskier still took jobs, especially assassin jobs. Geralt still took contracts too, but they always made it home to share supper together, and to share their bath and bed in the evening.

Eventually, they slowed further, and Jaskier didn't take contracts for assassinations, and Geralt didn't take contracts that took him farther than the two villages nearby, but even that, too dwindled down to nothing.

Jaskier played in the taverns nearby, on the nights they decided to go out for drinks or food, but otherwise, as Geralt had once suggested in his daydreaming, they retired completely and lived off the land.

...and Jaskier had never been happier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHHHHH!
> 
> Well, that's the end as we wrote it, but mewsifer and I both absolutely love our kitten and pup duo and will hopefully be doing other little things with this pair  
> but the main story is over!
> 
> I can't believe it!! it was so much fun to write it and we didn't want it to be over ♡
> 
> thank you so much those who have left kudos and comments, you're all so lovely and amazing!  
> hope you enjoyed these soft boys to the end and if you have anything you want to see of them, let us know!
> 
> mewsifer and I are both on tumblr  
> (mewsifer and showmeyourstarstigersniper)
> 
> ♡


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